Freedom
by storiewriter
Summary: Emerald is a squirrelmaid, caught by a band of slavers and sold into the camp of Oveline, the black fox. War is rising quickly, and the Abbeydwellers must look to the south.. Bear with me; first story written here. EXTREME Sue warning. Complete synopsis
1. Chapter 1

_Freedom_

Chapter 1:

The red-gold squirrel sat cross-legged on the top of a small hill, gazing longingly at the forest a great distance away. They were only a green-brown fringe, far away. She sighed, and tore her distance from the quiet glen to her surroundings.

There were many beasts around her, all sleeping peacefully. She shook her head mournfully, and laid down on her back, staring up at the cloudless blue sky for a moment, then closing her eyes lightly. After a few minutes of peace, her keen hearing caught the sounds of casual foot-paws strolling up the hill. Her emerald-green eyes snapped open, and she laid there, stock still and breathing lightly, though inside, her heart was racing.

Soon, a rat ascended the hill, a whip in one paw, and a dagger in the other. Seeing that the squirrelmaid was awake, he grinned wickedly, and squatted down beside her as she slowly sat up.

"Well, my pretty, 'ave you rested enough? I 'ope you don't collapse on the march, 'cause then, I might have to slit yor throat, and then, we wouldn't have as many slaves, would we?"

She spat at him maliciously. "Oh, aye. Would you like me to slit your throat for you, eh? Coward!"

The rat reeled back, stung by her bitter words and retaliated quickly by whipping her once.

Her short cry of pain echoed all over the hills, startling the woodlanders into wakefulness. Chains rattled, keeping them together as they, in their confused states, tried to run in different directions, of course, they were sent sprawling as the chain lines went taunt, and their momentum carried them forward to have them fall flat on their faces. This was met with loud hoots of laughter from the slavers nearby.

The rat next to the young squirrel had a wave of astonishment cross his face, as he checked to see if the chains were connected to the line. They weren't. His face quickly changed to rage as he faced her.

"You filthy bunch of droppings!" He swung hard at her with his palm open.

SMACK!

The squirrel didn't even flinch as she sat there unmoving. The jewel-green eyes glowed with a burning hatred as she glared at him.

"A slaver undid them, just to let you know. And if you looked, there are ropes tied lightly around my feet and my waist." Her words felt like ice to the rat slaver, and he shuddered.

"Who did that?" he asked her.

She smirked impudently. "Go ask them yourself, Peabrain!"

He stood up, and whispered to her, "You're going to pay for that."

"I know."

The rat turned away, and shouted to the slavers. "Which one o' you unchained this slave and lightly roped her? Speak up!"

"I did."

The rat whipped around quickly, and instantly, turned pale under his fur.

"C-c-c-captain! W-w-w-w-" the tall weasel held up a paw to stop the stuttering rat, and beckoned to him.

Once they were out of the slaves hearing range, the captain seized the rat by the shoulders.

"Don't you see? That slave is very precious! You know that she's beautiful. And I know a certain warlord that would like a personal slave to wait on him. And he wants her beautiful."  
The rat's face erupted into a grin.

"You mean Oveliene?"

"Exactly."

---

At that very time, Oveliene the fox was tapping a windowsill in his chambers as he impatiently asked his commander a single question.

"When is Secdar coming with the new slaves he has apparently rounded up?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The young squirrel marched, surrounded on all sides by slavers so she wouldn't escape. There were others too, a mouse and an otter.

The otter was an acrobat, being able to perform tricks nonstop. Her brown fur brought out her unusual sky-blue eyes, bright with joy once, but now, dull with hopelessness.

The mouse was down-right beautiful. Her fur was white, with a speck of black in the middle of her forehead. The slave's eyes were a hazel color, warm with understanding one time.

Both of the creatures were weighed down with despair, certain that they would always be a slave. But the young squirrel was a different matter completely.

Her eyes had a spark in them, a spark determined to become a flame, growing stronger and bigger to take in the evil that brought her there, and destroy it. She was determined to escape, even though there was no opening to run away through.

After a few miles, it was midday. The march was halted abruptly, and the slaves literally threw themselves on the ground, relieved that the march had stopped for a while.

Slavers began dishing out meals to the exhausted woodlanders. While they were doing this the 'special' slaves got 'acquainted' after their footpaws were tied to some stakes inserted in the ground.

The mouse spoke up softly. "My name is Nightsnow. I came from the northern mountains, past Mossflower." She pointed in the direction where she came from. "I was an only child. We lived a happy life, the three of us. When the slavers came, they…." She chocked and her eyes began to water with tears. "They….killed them, slicing off their tails, then using them for archery practice." The mousemaid then sobbed softly. The otter spoke up.

"My family and I lived by River Moss, pretty close to Redwall Abbey. I'm related to the Skipper, so the Holt was nearby. My parents named me Sky Streamflow"

"When the vermin came, my mother and father fought them, and yelled for me to run. I ran, and they pursued me after slaying my parents. For two days I ran, trying to get to Redwall in time. Right outside the gates they caught me." A fleeting wave of hatred flashed in her eyes, then was gone. "I have sworn to avenge my parents, and will do so when the time comes."

"I have sworn to kill each and every one of these vermin." The squirrelmaid spoke in a low voice. The other maids turned to her.

"Why?" Sky asked. "What did they do to you?"

Her emerald green eyes flamed with anger, hatred, and grief. The squirrelmaids voice shook as she told them her tale.

"I was born in Mossflower, a few miles from River Moss. My parents named me Emerald Brightstar, because of my eyes. I had a brother named Nauru Brightstar."

"My brother was a warrior, so he taught me how to wield a dagger, for at two to four seasons old, the dagger was pretty much all weight I could handle as a weapon. Nauru and I were best of friends, even though we were siblings. He was an albino, eight seasons older than me. My brother and I sat on the banks of a creek nearby, talking and gathering the berries that grew nearby the creek's edge for Mother to cook and preserve."

"Mother's name was, before she married, Kari Treefringe. She was a very good cook, as she had to feed three hungry squirrels all the time. She, like Nauru, was an albino. Mother came from a tribe of all-white squirrels, called the Snowdrifts. All of the squirrelmaids married boys within the tribe, but my mother was bored with seeing one white squirrel after the other, and set off wandering. She met my father fighting off an adder, and dropped from a tree to slay it. Luckily, neither one of them was bitten."

"Father came from the place Sky called Redwall. He was mischievous, swift, and smart as a dibbun. His name was Fleetail. He always found ways in and out of Redwall without anybeast knowing. Father was fascinated with Mossflower wood's expanse, its trees, everything about it mystified him. He was a reddish squirrel and tall. Nauru was taught by Father to wield weapons."

"One night, when I was six seasons, Mother sent me out to look for some thyme and if I found any, to gather it. I was out for a few hours, and only found one sprig of the soup herb. When I got back, my father was dead and my mother barely alive. Nauru was missing. I ran to my mother's body and kneeled beside her. Her eyes flickered, and she saw me…………"

_Flashback:_

_A white, almost dead motherly looking squirrel telling a red-gold young one what had happened._

_'Your father died defending me and Nauru. Nauru was taken slave.'_ _she managed to gasp out. 'Emera, Emer, Em, I am glad you are alive.' Her breathing began to be labored, and she was gasping for breath._

_'Mama, Mama, please don't die!' the little squirrel cried. 'Please don't!_

_The older squirrel smiled ruefully. 'The Dark Forest's gates are calling me. Em, there is a haversack in the hidden cupboard, and some things you'll need inside it. The vermin took all of our other food.'_

'_But Mama, I'm going to make you better. Don't die, mama, I need you!'_

_'Child……there is a place………called…Redwall Abbey. Find it……they'll take you in.'_

_Tears flowed in Emera's eyes._

_'Goodbye.' The white squirrel whispered. And then, she closed her eyes forever._

_'NOOOOOOOOOO! MAMA! PLEASE. WAKE UP!' the young squirrel screamed, sobbing hysterically, feeling her mother's body go limp in her arms._

_When she gained control of herself, she gritted her teeth and made and oath._

_'On my mother's body, I will slay all who had hurt my family and hurt me.' _

Tears ran in Emerald's eyes as she remembered it all. The squirrelmaid wiped the back of her paw to wipe the tears away.

Nightsnow whispered gently. "You don't have to tell us if it is too hard to."

"Thank you." Then, her keen ears picked up the movement of two beasts arriving. She quickly quieted them, motioning that somebeasts were arriving.

"Eat up. We're going to be marching until nightfall, or our currant destination." The slaves swiveled around quickly. A couple of slaver rats were wheeling around a couple of huge pots with bowls on either side of the pots. Each rat took a bowl and ladled out the contents carefully until they were each half full. They handed both of the bowls to Nightsnow, revealing a bowl of some sort of mash and a bowl of water. The process was repeated two more times, and then the rats went off, wheeling the carts away.

Sky gingerly dipped a paw into her mash-bowl and licked at it.

"Hmmmm. It tastes like onions and mushrooms with a bit of rosemary. I think it's okay." With that, Sky began to stuff herself.

"Hold on!" Nightsnow whispered. "We're more likely to have side pains if we eat or drink too much too fast. We need to dig a hole where we can put most of this stuff."

"Except for the water."

The mouse and otter both looked at Emerald.

"How are you going to accomplish carrying the water, eh?" Sky questioned, confused.

"With this." Emerald exposed a small, black canteen from her tunic. The mousemaid and ottermaid's jaws dropped open

"Wha-who-wher-why-whe-" Spluttered Sky.

"Just don't talk about it. Here's some water, Emerald." Nightsnow passed a bowl of water to her.

"Call me Emera, Emer, or Em." Quickly, she started to pour the bowl's contents into the canteen.

---

"Move the slaves out! March quickly!" Secdar roared to make himself heard. The lines of slaves slowly began to move.

---

When it was sundown, Emerald gasped in astonishment. Below her was a wide crevice in the ground, and in it, hundreds of tents rested, with vermin of all sorts doing their daily business. They had arrived at the camp of Oveline.

---

At Redwall, the Abbot was sleeping.

In his dreams, he was looking at a wide crevice, filled with hundreds of tents, with vermin walking around in it.

A paw tapped his shoulder. Abbot Merrick turned around, and saw Martin the Warrior. The warrior pointed to his right, and there, Merrick saw woodlanders chained to each other. But at the front, there was an otter, a mouse, and a squirrel, with no chains or ropes on, just a company of two slavers. Merrick turned back to Martin who spoke to him.

"A slave from the south, high as sky

Will come to blood red walls.

Grave news she will bring, of Evil One's plans

Of conquest of twin bells.

The one with two whites,

Will stay to spy,

And help in greatest need.

That beast is the warrior,

Of which we've been waiting for

To lift the sword to revenge.

So look to the south,

And wait for first,

When summer reigns again.

And when seed-cases fall,

The army will run

And warrior will come."

And with that, Martin left.

---

Author's note: So, what do you think? Tell me what's wrong, and I'll try to edit it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am way too nice, updating practically every single day. People don't even review for me when I do that! sob! The only reader that has reviewed so far is Clouded Horizon. I thank _that_ reviewer.

Chapter 3:

The slaves looked around in awe as they were led into the center of the vermin camp the next day, where a small, dry clearing in the shape of a scraggly circle rested. The slaves were put in a line, from the middle-aged slaves to the young ones, to the elderly slaves, and finally the 'special slaves'.

After a few minutes of silence, the tent flap of the biggest tent the size of a medium-sized hut opened, and a fox walked into view.

The fox had black fur almost all over his body, with the exception of his tail-tip, and the areas around his eyes. He was, for his species, um, _handsome_. He didn't speak, just motioned to the rat that had appeared beside him with his paws. The rat translated for them.

"His mightiness would like to see all of the working slaves in the best conditions first."

The ones Secdar had chosen as the best laboring slaves were pushed forward. The fox looked them over, walking in front to them. He then stepped back and signed to the rat. Again the rat translated.

"The Lord of the Diabo will pick his favorite ones."

The fox strode down the line of slaves, occasionally stopping in front, of one, and then slowly walking again as two slavers hastened to unchain to chosen slave and lead him/her to the slowly increasing clump of slaves on the opposite end of the circle. When the fox reached the last slave he would pick, he returned to the place where he usually stood when looking at the slaves. There were few slaves left in the line. After a few motions to the rat, the rat nodded to Secdar. Secdar immediately had his slavers herd the slaves left back into the group, and took out the young ones, dibbun-aged.

Again, the process repeated, as with the elders. Soon, there was only Nightsnow, Sky, and Emerald left for sale.

The fox raised his black eyebrows questioningly. Secdar hurriedly explained.

"Sire, they are the ones I thought you might like best for entertainment, and bringing food to your table, once your castle is built." The fox came closer to Secdar and whispered in his ear. The weasel nodded and barked at Nightsnow.

"Do something!"

Emerald chuckled softly at this in her mind. _If that were me,_ the squirrelmaid thought,_ I would throw a stone at him. Or anything close to paw._

This, though, was not what Nightsnow had in mind. She opened her mouth, and words poured from it.

"Hey fo fiddle fee,

My mother cried to me.

'My darlin' what are you doin'

Dancin' with a bumble bee?

There are pleny o' young mice,

Waiting for a chance to dance with thee.

Why oh why does my daughter,

Have to dance with that bumble bee?'

An' this was my reply;

'O mother sweet mother,

This young gentlebee

Ain't got a partner,

So he sweetly asked me!'

Hey fo fiddle fy,

My father then came by:

'Daughter o' mine,

Stop doin' that right now!

Mice don't mate with bumblebees,

So to dance, why do you try?'

An' this was my reply!

'O father kind father,

This young gentlebee

Ain't got a partner,

So he sweetly asked me!'

Hey fo fiddle fee,

Me and the bumble bee

Skipped off together,

Where in peace we danced quite happily!"

Nightsnow's voice was a joy to listen to, sounding sweeter than honey spread on top of a scone. The fox was silent for a minute, and then smiled. He nodded to the rat, who led her gently to the fox's tent. Secdar hurriedly spoke to Sky before the customer could pay for all of them.

"Otter, do your thing!"

Emerald suddenly had a detailed picture in her mind of Sky throwing a thorn-encrusted stick at the fox. She jerked her head slightly to get rid of the image, which was replaced by the thought of wondering why she was currently obsessed with throwing things at the fox.

Sky, though, didn't do anythingof the sort. She stood still, breathing softly. Secdar was about to hurry her up when she did a large number of back-flips continuously, one after the other, moving so fast she was a brown blur. Sky then back-flipped onto an extremely startled slaver's shoulders, and front-flipped off, turning three times before her paws hit the ground again. She stopped for a second, and then pushed very hard off of the ground and turned once in mid-air before landing lightly on her footpaws. She was sweating slightly, and panting softly. The fox immediately signed to the rat, and he led her to the humongous tent where Nightsnow was.

Secdar was about to order Emerald to do something when Oveline signed to the returning rat. The rat then hurried forward and grabbed Emerald's arm tightly. She ripped it out of his grasp and then glared at him, warning him silently not to grab her again.

The rat understood quite well, and left her alone. They soon disappeared inside of the tent. The fox turned towards Secdar waiting expectantly. The fox clapped and a mouse, grey with countless seasons, along with a white young male squirrel approached, bearing flagons of wine and haversacks of dried food. At the foxes sign, they carefully laid down their burdens. As they stood, the weasel recognized the squirrel. The squirrel looked at him, and a familiar flame burned in his eyes. Secdar couldn't quite place his paw on where he had seen that look of loathing before.

He turned and shook paws with the fox. Then, the deal was, officially, closed.

---

At the Abbey, the abbot was wondering about a dream he had the last night. He strained his mind to remember. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. He sighed, and put on his robes. He felt that it was going to be a long day.

Friar Thune was always up early, making breakfast for Redwall's occupants. He took the scones from the oven and placed them on the counter to cool. He turned his back on them, facing the oven. From the stairway he heard a voice he knew all too well echo down the stairway and through the hall.

"My peepers want to shut down on m- wait, is that scones I smell? Absoballylutely spiffin'! I suppose I should jolly well pay the kitchens a visit, wot!"

The Friar groaned softly. _Why him?_ He thought. His ears were soon aware of big footpaws jumping down the stairs noisily, growing louder by the second. Thune quickly grabbed the rolling pin nearby and stepped in front of his newly baked scones just as the hare ran down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Hmmmm, those smell good, I think I could swipe a few before that fatty shrew wa- oops!"

Thune, enraged by the hare's remarks, chased the hare down the Great Hall.

"You are a horrible creature, Ffindle! You-you rabbit!"

The hare stopped, and gave the friar a glare. "Watch it! I'm a hare, not a rabbit!" he looked at the friar. "You _are_ fat, y'know."

"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggg!" Thune charged at Ffindle, waving the rolling pin wildly.

"What's going on?"

Abbot Merrick came down the hall, walking slowly. The friar lowered the rolling pin, and explained.

"I was making scones when _he _came down. He called me fat! Twice!" He looked at the Abbot pleadingly. "Please can we throw him out when summer reigns again?"

All at once, the dream that the Abbot had flooded back into his mind. He started to run.

"Merrick, where are you going?" the Friar called to him, confused. The Abbot yelled back, sandals flapping against the smooth stone floor.

"To the gatehouse! I just remembered that Martin came to me in a dream and spoke to me!"

---

A/N: how is it? Good? Bad? Please review! (I know Ffindle's accent was horrid!)

Ffindle: I say you jolly well did!

Oops! Almost forgot the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: Redwall is NOT mine. Nor is anything that is in the books. This goes for EVERY chapter I write after this one until the end (If there is one)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I am very sorry for not updating. First, I was banned from the computer. Next, I took a day off (shrinks back from a thundering Clouded Horizon.) Today, I had a doctor's appointment, and my mom got back-to-school things. Welllllllllllll, I suppose it _does_ serve you readers right, with the exception of Clouded Horizon. Well, ENJOY chapter 4 and REVIEW!

Chapter 4:

The inside of the huge tent was elaborately decorated. Nightsnow, Sky, and Emerald looked around. Nightsnow stared in awe, Sky, in curiosity, and Emerald, in boredom and puzzlement. Her thoughts were confused zooming all over the place in her head.

_Why did he choose me? He doesn't know what I can do._ She thought.

Suddenly, the tent flap opened, and the fox walked in. He signed to the rat, who immediately exited.

---

Oveline looked at his new slaves. He had liked all of their performances. That is, he liked two of the slave's performances. He didn't know the squirrel's talents……yet. He stepped up to her and raised her chin. Her eyes stared back, unafraid, flashing pure hatred at him. The fox's eyes betrayed nothing, but inside of him, he felt a blast of surprise explode within him.

Never, ever had this happened in his whole life. He didn't remember one beast that he looked down on, completely in control of them, their eyes reflecting despair. He-Wait. There was_ one_ other, the male squirrel Secdar had brought to him about five seasons ago.

_Could they-nah. _ He thought._ They couldn't. _

He spoke to her softly, so that the other two slaves couldn't hear him.

"What can you do, squirrel? What is your name?"

---

"What can you do, squirrel? What is your name?" His words were slippery as a snake's, trying to lure her into its range to be struck by deadly fangs. His words were full of deceit, and trickery. His words were sickly sweet, and Emerald was sure that this was not his actual voice at all. The squirrelmaid decided to be……….annoying.

"Oh, I can do many things." She smiled innocently, which was the opposite of what she really was thinking. "I can breath, eat, sleep, drink, live, run, walk, skip, escape, read, gather food, cook, draw, sing horribly, slip, trip, stumble, fall, climb, build, fight, throw, swing, catch, write, explore, construct, erect, stand, crouch, waddle, jump, leap, scurry, sway, dangle, hang upside-down, stagger, lurch, hesitate, falter, scale trees, bend, squat, stoop, toddle, sway, shuffle, wobble, bound, hop, skip, hurdle, rise, dash, dart, scamper, scuttle, hurry, lob, toss, fling, chuck, hit, knock, stick, blink, wink, hear, speak, whisper, whistle, shout, yell, I could go on forever with this!"

She saw the fox blink once, and sigh with frustration.

"What are your… specialties?" She had been right! This time, the voice was filled with aggravation with a tinge of his hard edged, emotionless voice, which was probably his regular voice.

"Hmmmm……. That eliminates some of the possibilities."

"Only SOME!" the fox shrieked hysterically. He tugged some of his black fur out. He was distracted by what she said to retaliate and kill her.

"Well, I suppose it _could_ be just_ most_." Emerald said. She was enjoying this immensely.

"Please get on with it." He practically begged, overlooking the fact that he was the Master and that she was the slave, not the other way around at all.

Emerald grinned, enjoying this. "Oh, I can pull pranks, insult beasts, track beasts, climb trees, and generally be a nuisance by annoying beasts in any way."

Oveline groaned.

---

He knew now. She did all of that to simply _annoy_ him! He did all he could to resist the urge to slay her on the spot. He concentrated on his breathing to calm himself down. Inhale ………Exhale …...Inhale …… Exhale………. Inhale………. Exhale……..Inhale………Exhale. He started thinking about what she said. The fox remembered the rebel captains, who, the year before, had tried to de-'throne' him. He still hadn't punished them. _Pulls pranks_. He then had that wonderful idea. Forgetting that she hadn't told him her name yet, he outlined his plan in his mind.

Oveline beckoned to the squirrel. "I need you to do this……."

---

An extract from the recordings of Sandunal, Recorder of Redwall Abbey.

_Ah, the good old days when I was a Dibbun. Stealing pies off of windowsills, running around with no cares, pulling tricks, so much fun! Now I have to look dignified, as the Father Abbot says. Phffffffffff! Dignified indeed! He's a stinky Abbot, you know. I wish that I could go and run my heart out, roll in the grass, blowing dandelions. But I can't, 'cause, (I don't care if I use improper grammar for my recordings.) I am an 'elder.' Fussy ol' Abbot! He has no sense of humor. Besides, who's going to read the recordings of a mousemaid? I guess I'll just have fun with this, maybe a bit of information here and there._

_We've received news from Salamandastron. Lord Russano is very old, and wiser still! His son, Snowstripe, is to stay at the mountain while Melanius goes wandering with her dirk. Funny to say, but we haven't had a badgermum since old Cregga died. My grandpa, Nimbalisto, dying three seasons after I was born, told me stories about her. He said that she was a fearsome warrior from the time of a hare called Tammo. She had been countless seasons old, and was killed by an arrow from a tribe of his pal's. This was told to him by other beasts._

_The Abbess is long dead, dieing a season after my grandpa did. My mother died when I was born, and father, from a small conflict from some vermin, died a season after grandma did, who died two seasons after the Abbess died. When that happened… I was an orphan._

_I was brought up by the good Friar, who treated me as if I were his own daughter. It has always amazed him that Ffindle and I are the best of friends, him stealing food from the kitchens all of the time. He said today that he might pinch some of the scones for today's snack. It's funny, the way he shares the food with me. I mean, Hares like Ffindle usually keep their food to themselves, don't they. I know, I know, I have only met one hare in all of my seasons. Who knows, they could all be like him for all I know! Oops! I just remembered that the Friar is getting up early this morning! I think that Ffindle is going to have a run-in with him. Great! Just what I need, a morning without a snack before breakfast. Oh, you might be thinking that this isn't fair to Ffindle, him snatching the scoff and me just twiddling my paws while he gets the vittles. Well, usually, the Friar tells me what he's going to do the next morning, what time he's going to get up, all of that information. I relay that to Ffindle, who sneaks in, grabs some scoff, and runs off with the food. Most of the time, we do it twice of thrice a week, though sometimes more times, we would have either a midnight snack or a small-before-breakfast snack. I really don't think that I'm going to have a breakfast snack. Well anyway-yup. I am most definitely NOT going to have a snack right now. A very wrath-ish yell, though faint to my ears, is coming from the Great Hall. Sounded a bit like a war cry. He probably has woken up half of the Abbey with that, especially the ones within the main building. I feel sorry for them, waking up to a blood-curdling yell, thinking the Abbey is under attack. It's most likely a Ffindle being attacked by a blood-thirsty friar Thune. Okay, I know that I'm dramatizing here. Thune (I fell kind of guilty calling him that, and 'Father' I remember. Still, 'The Friar' over and over gets really boring, doesn't it?) Isn't a blood-thirsty shrew, I just think that his rage has been woken up. You know, that warrior hidden within him. Oh, phooey, I know that, again, I'm being dramatic with my writing. I just get carried away with my writing. Anyway, who am I 'talking' to anyway? Okay, I admit it, I usually do this. I just can't help it, you know. Like a Badgerlord/lady like Lady Cregga Rose Eyes can't really contain his/her bloodwrath once it is uncovered. Hey, there's a beast coming to the gatehouse. Sounds like a mouse like me. I just peeked out the window-guess who it is? It's the Abbot, running! He isn't looking very dignified right now. Well, I know that he would be walking if it weren't highly important, so I suppose that I should open the door. Um, **after** I hide this. I have a feeling that the abbot wouldn't really appreciate this if he saw it, you know. Me revealing secrets that my thoughts alone hold of him, Ffindle, and all of that information (I wasn't supposed to hear about the Badgerlord. You see, I pressed my ear to the crack under the door leading to Cavern Hole where the elders were having their meeting). Well, up out of the chair and onto the floor to open the door. You know, I think I may be a poet! I've got to surprise him, so goodbye!_

Sandunal heaved herself out of the chair and opened the door right as he was beginning to knock loudly.

The abbot's fist shot out, intended for the oak wood of the door, but instead missing it as the door opened, and hitting, hard, on the beast's nose.

"OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" the creature shrieked out in pain, holding a paw to her hurt nose, hopping around. The abbot sighed and apologized to her.

"I'm sorry, Sandunal. I meant to hit the door, but you opened it." the mousemaid's voice was muffled as she spoke.

"You'm mean, Abbut, mean I sday!"

"I really am sorry, Sandunal, but I had a dream from Martin the Warrior, and I didn't know you were awake."

Sandunal stopped her noise instantly. She quickly took her paw down from her nose and shoved him inside. Speedily, she shut the door and grabbed her quill, inkpot, and some spare parchment.

"Recite the message to me. Quickly!"

Merrick recited the riddle of which Martin the Warrior had told him.

"A slave from the south, high as sky,

Will come to blood red walls.

Grave news she will bring, of Evil One's plans

Of conquest of twin bells.

The one with two whites,

Will stay to spy,

And help in greatest need.

That beast is the warrior,

Of which we've been waiting for,

To lift the sword to revenge.

So look to the south,

And wait for the first,

When summer reigns again.

And when seed-cases fall,

The army will run,

And warrior will come."

Sandunal scribbled furiously while he talked, and when it was done, she blew her paws to cool them down.

"That was the fastest writing I've done, father. What do you think it all means?"

The Abbot sighed. "I don't know. Though," He brightened up a bit. "I do know that 'when summer reigns again' is when summer starts."

"And that 'blood-red walls' is indicating Redwall Abbey."

A new voice interrupted them. "And that 'the army will run' is that a bally horde, probably vermin, will go to attack wherever they're attacking. Just like Sandunal is going to have to jolly well run to escape from me! Come' ere, pal o' mine!" Ffindle started to chase Sandunal around the room. She soon zipped out of the doorway with Ffindle hot on her heels. The abbot chuckled as he thought about retaining your dignity. He bent down to pick up a piece of paper and was about to put it away when he caught a line of words. Immediately he sat down on Sandunal's chair and read.

---

A/N: What's wrong? What's bad? You know you're just aching to press the review button in the corner of the screen. NOW I know how writers feel about reviewing. And this chapter's long! Nine pages, here. This is the ninth, here, pretty near the end, so please review! It took until past 1:00 a.m. to finish this!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: Thenk you, Saberpaw and Clouded Horizon. You guys are the best! Meanwhile, (Casts her evil eye over the rest of the readers.) You other readers need to review!

Chapter 5:

Vermin of every species filed into the circle, confused, angry, and scared at what their master wanted to announce. Oveline stepped out of his tent with the rat who always translated for the fox. He signed to the rat.

"By our lord's command, all of the captains will step forward. The rest of the army will go back to do their duties."

Many sighs of relief were heard as the majority of the horde walked away. The fox nodded to the rat, who clapped his hands. A score of the able-bodied slaves stepped forward.

"The captains must step to the side of the circle whilst the slaves set up the tables for the feast his Mightiness is having the slaves prepare for you and himself."

While the slaves grunted and groaned, moving the heavy tables to the centre of the circle, the captains watched, astounded that the warlord was doing this for them. Soon, though, their expressions changed to suspicion.

---

While the working slaves were setting up the table and decorations, Emerald and her friends were in the kitchen tent, where the chief cook for Oveliene was finishing the final touches to his contractions. The white squirrel worked alongside the ageing mouse, stealing glances at the squirrel and her friends. _She looks familiar, that squirrel,_ he thought, _I wonder why, and who she is? _

"Okay, buddy. You can go now and talk to that beautiful young squirrel." The white squirrel looked up is surprise. The old mouse's grey eyes twinkled with silent laughter. "I saw you stealing glances at the young'un. Go on, you scamp. Shoo!" the grey mouse flung the dish towel he always carried with him at the squirrel playfully. The white squirrel jumped out of the cloth's way and shyly made his way to where the young maids were waiting patiently, sitting on a poorly constructed bench.

"Ummm- may I talk with you?" they turned around and one of them, the otter, replied.

"Sure you can. I can't see why not?" He sat down on the bench with them, and looked them up and down, studying them.

The white mouse was wearing an elaborate red dress with the pattern of flowers dancing across it. The otter who had spoken to him wore a light, light blue dress, with wispy white streaks floating slowly in the material. The squirrel, though, wore a long, deep forest green robe that was plain and cleverly designed to _look_ like a dress even though it wasn't.

"Okay, goggle-eyes, stop looking at us and tell us what you wanted to talk to us about."

He blinked in surprise, and saw the speaker. It was the squirrel, and her voice, it sounded familiar. Strangely familiar, as if it were someone he knew from a long time ago. He shrugged, and replied, shaking the sensation out of his mind. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe introduce yourselves. I'd like to know your names."

Suddenly, a whistle softly tweeted, the sign for the maids to get the food. Quickly, they introduced themselves as the mouse loaded them with food.

"I'm Nightsnow."

"Sky the otter here."

The squirrel, just before she ducked out of the tent flap revealed her name.

"My name is Emerald of Mossflower."

The white squirrel paled, and felt light-headed for a moment. Now he knew.

"You're alive?" he whispered to himself.

---

Emerald felt a scorching wave of anger pass over her body. Why should she be doing this? _Because you can get partial revenge over all vermin._ Her mind reasoned. She shook the burning hot emotion away as she walked on and set her platter on the table. The vermin were practically drooling, which isn't a very pretty sight. The emerald eyes caught sight of Oveline beckoning to her. Slowly, she went to him, fighting the urge to leap towards him and plunge…. She shouldn't say it, even in her mind. It might betray her, however unlikely that seemed.

"Now, do you se that ferret over there?" the warlord asked in a low, quiet voice once the young squirrel had had reached him. Emerald gave a quick jerk with her head to indicate that she had.

"You see, that is the only captain who is loyal. Try to avoid pulling pranks on him. Now go and wait beside your friends."

Emerald walked towards her mates slowly, taking care to conceal the fact that she was wearing a robe.

She and her friends waited for what seemed like hours, but was only a quarter of an hour. Oveline stood up, as did the rat translator.

The fox signed to the rat. The rat explained to the bewildered captains.

"His highness presents the new slaves, who will entertain you with song, acrobatics, and the last one being a surprise."

The rat then beckoned to Nightsnow, who slowly stepped towards the raised lump in the middle of the circle, the table being a few yards to the left. Instantly, her sweet voice filled the air.

"Gone am I, a-wandering,

Away from home of red.

Gone am I, a-wandering,

Away from soft, soft bed.

Farewell, said I, Farewell, Farewell,

As I stepped out of home.

Farewell, said I, Farewell, Farewell,

As I began to roam.

Now on the road, the rocky road,

Leading from rising stones.

Now on the road, the rocky road,

Of which armored mouse has shown.

In wooden glade, of seeming peace,

Vermin I met there.

In wooden glade, of seeming peace,

Took me to secret lair.

They tied me up very tightly,

With me on hardened knees.

The tied me up very tightly,

When warrior saw me.

He fought them with his gleaming sword,

He fought with all his might.

He fought them with his gleaming sword,

With sword of Martin's might.

He said that Matthias was the name,

Came away from wandering.

He said Matthias was the name,

His son he found running.

So then I gave up wandering,

And went with his army,

So then I gave up wandering,

They returned home with me.

So this is tale I tell to you,

Don't ever leave home true to you,

So this tale I tell to you,

Like Red walls of mine and yours!"

The sweet tones hung, ringing in the cold evening air. The captains were astounded with the mousemaid's beautiful voice. Silence hung, lurking in the air, until it was destroyed by thundering applause. Paws clapped loudly, and whistles came from the audience. Even though vermin were evil, they could be 'woken up'. The clapping was abruptly silenced when the rat held up his paw, and nodded to the mousemaid, who slowly went to the others near the tent, whilst the otter came from the partial cover.

Sky stood her ground for a while, and when angry murmurs broke out, she started.

Front flips, back-flips, cartwheels, paw-stands, multiple flips in midair, all of the astounding things that Sky did were probably hard-earned. Soon though, all too soon, her performance ended.

Again, silence fell, but the captains were too astounded to clap, mouths open wide. With no applause, Sky went back, and Emerald came in.

The captains waited for another breathtaking performance, but the squirrel just walked up and down the table sides, finally stopping at a particularly ugly stoat.

"Did you leave your mother of your own accord?" she asked. The stoat was caught off guard, and answered.

"Yes, I did."

Emerald pasted an astonished look on her face. "Are you sure your mother didn't kick you out?"

This comment was followed by raucous laughter from the other vermin. This continued for a while, the insulting. But then, she started the pranks. Quietly, with no one noticing, she slipped a medium sapphire from a vermin's pocket with the expertise of a thief. She slipped around to a weasel on the other side of the table and slipped it into the vermin's lap in a way that he wouldn't feel the weight. She then, after a few minutes, asked the rat to the weasel's left to tell him that he had a strange jewel in his lap. The rat whispered the information to the weasel, who looked down, with an expression of surprise on his face. As Emerald had hoped, the weasel was pretty dumb, and much to her delight, stood up. Swiftly, she slipped a thorn onto his chair, right where his behind had been resting. The weasel spoke.

"Er, er, oo's sparkly is this?"

The stoat who Emerald took the gem from stood up, roaring with anger.

"HOW DID YOU GET ME JEWLIE? YER A STINKIN' THIEF, FANGHIDE!"

While the stoat was still standing up, she slipped yet another thorn onto his seat. She was having a tremendously enjoyable time right now.

"S-s-sorry Wartbite. I didn' know oo's sparkly this was. I didn' e'en know ow et got thur." he tossed the gem over to the stoat, who sat down after he had his jewel back. Fanghide sat down at the same moment. Both of them, gem forgotten, leaped up, clutching their bottoms in pure agony. Both of them hopped around, yelping. Wartbite found what was causing the pain.

"A THORN!" he shouted, holding up the insulting bramble. He grabbed the pine martin next to him and shook him. He swung a punch at him, but the pine martin ducked, and the punch hit the rat beside him.

"Why you-" soon, a major fight broke out, food and vermin alike flying. In the corner, Sky and Nightsnow were laughing silently, bodies shaking with mirth at the cleverly planned prank.

The ferret captain, the rat and Oveline barely made it back to the warlord's tent. Once inside, though, they began to snicker and laugh.

The slaves who were there to clean up the mess were rolling on the ground laughing, a laugh some hadn't had for seasons.

Emerald began to bounce back to her pals, a gleeful grin on her face, eyes alight with humor. The big stoat, Wartbite, noticed her.

"IT WAS HER!" he charged at Emerald, sword withdrawn. Oveline ran out of the tent with the other two vermin. It was too late for them to help.

She surprised them all. Once the stoat began to charge the short distance, she continued to keep her back to him, until he was nearly upon her. Bringing his curved sword down, he expected to feel it break through flesh and bone. However, he brought it down on thin air. He let his sword down, bewildered, and looked around, blank stupidity drawn across his face.

"Put the sword down. Now! Or you'll feel my blade in your throat." The ice-cold voice chilled him to the bone. Being the coward he was, he dropped the blade.

"Turn around." The weasel turned around, expecting to find the ferret captain, or Oveline, since very few souls alive had ever heard his voice. Instead, he saw the jolly squirrelmaid.

She wasn't jolly any more, though. She held a dagger up to his throat, and by the way she held it, she was an expert. Her mouth, smiling earlier, was set in a firm line. Instead of a dress, she wore a tunic, green. But the thing that was the most different was her eyes.

The eyes a few seconds ago, filled with amusement, were filled with a cold, yet burning, green flame. The flame was built with loathing, hatred, and most surprising of all, a hard, hard coldness that was not afraid to kill.

The slaves were astounded. The captains were astounded. Even the warlord Oveline was astounded. The squirrel warrior looked at him.

"He's all yours, master." Nobeast heard the tinge of loathing in her voice. Oveline blinked, then signed to the rat.

"The all-mighty warlord declares that Wartbite is now exiled from the camp, and if his highness sees him again, he will be killed on the spot."

---

Merrick read the script of Abbess Song's transcript, which read,

_Ah, fall. The time of the gathering of fruit, and the playfulness of the dibbuns, begging me for a Nameday. Father said that on fall, when I was eight seasons old, I asked what the fruit falling from the trees were. He didn't know that I was quizzing him_

_"Those are called fruit. I thought you already knew that."_

_I had replied, giggling, "That's not the only name for them."_

_"What is it then, rascal?"_

_"Grandma said that they were cases for the seeds………"_

That was all that the Father read. He set it down, bewildered, and while setting it down, noticed a curious little paper that looked as if it were hiding a secret. He picked it up, and read the words "….stinky Abbot…." The mouse's face erupted into a grin. My, did she have a voice all of her own, unlike, almost, any other recorder's. She was a cheeky youngster, full of joy and sarcasm. Redwall was lucky to have her.

---

A/N: This is ALMOST TWELVE PAGES! I wrote a lot! So please, PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I love you (not literally, just a writer reviewer sort of thing), Brocktree, Clouded Horizon, Saberpaw, and… NO ONE ELSE? You other readers are cruel. I know, I know, the white squirrel move, I just couldn't help keeping it in. Okay…. First of all, Oveline is a pretty nice vermin….. until greed overtakes him. Next, please review! I may have eleven reviews, one from myself, of course, but STILL! Oh, I suppose that I should start the next chapter. Well, ENJOY AND/OR REVIEW!

Chapter 6:

Sandunal staggered through the gatehouse door, panting from exhaustion. Ffindle followed her, still bouncing with unleashed energy.

"C'mon! Oh, buddy, o pal o mine, y'can't be tired already, matey! Y'know, the jolly ol' Elders won't 'ave a bally well clue- ooops! Looks like the fats in the fire! See'ya later, Sandi Wandi!" The over-energized hare took off out of the open door once he caught sight of the scowling Abbot as if his tail was on fire. One of the Abbot's sandaled footpaws was tapping upon the wooden floor. It stopped for a while as Merrick walked by an astonished mousemaid to close the door, and once it was closed, he turned back to Sandunal. He withdrew a parchment, already written upon, and held it out to Sandunal. The mousemaid took it, and immediately held in a groan.

"Read it. You, young'un, are in deep trouble if you don't clear this up. I have a great many questions."

Sandunal cleared her throat and began the lengthily script that she had written.

"Ah, the-"

"Skip that sentence."

"Now I have to look dignified, as the Father Abbot says. Phffffffffft! Dignified indeed! He's a stinky Abbot, you know. I wish-"

The Abbot waved his paw impatiently. "After the parentheses."

"I am an 'elder'. Fussy old Abbot! He has no sense of humor. I gu-"

"To the 'oops!' part."

Sandunal obeyed the Abbot, sweating all over. "Oops! I just remembered that the Friar is getting up early this morning! I think-"

"A few lines after. 'I relay'."

"I relay that to Ffindle, who sneaks in, grabs some scoff, and runs off-"

"Um, and then parentheses-"

Sandunal took the hint, and continued. "Um, _after _I hide this. (I wasn't supposed to hear about the Badgerlord.)" Merrick put his paws inside the opposite sleeves of his robes.

"First things first. _WHY_ did you listen in on the Elder's conference?"

Sandunal's sand-colored hair in between her shoulders bristled. "I am an Elder, aren't I? I am the recorder, anyhow, and can't really record if you don't let me!"

Abbot Merrick sighed. "I don't really mind the 'stinky Abbot', and 'fussy Abbot', but helping to steal from the kitchens!" He shook his head. "I don't know what happened to that quiet, responsible Dibbun." He then opened the door, and left.

Sandunal sighed. She flung herself into the chair at the desk, and took out a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot half-heartedly. She started to write a piece of history. _Her_ history.

_My name is Sandunal Joycall. I was born in Mossflower, my father dieing soon after my birth fighting vermin to protect me. My mother hated me._

_Soon, she married another mouse, my uncle's friend on my mother's side. He was horrible._

_They piled chores on me, which got heavier as my mother got pregnant. She gave birth to a little girl five seasons later._

_Mother soon struck up a deal with some slavers, not knowing that I had heard all. She was going to sell me!_

_I quickly grabbed a few apples from our harvest, and ran out of the back door. They pursued me, and I ended up going in a circle._

_I met a squirrel about thirteen or more seasons, who was taken by the slavers. He told me, briefly about himself, and I mine. The squirrel helped me outwit the slavers. I would walk slowly, taking care to make sure my paw prints showed. I then stopped at a bog, and stepped lightly and quickly. After two days, I arrived at my relatives house._

_They were my aunt, sister to my father, and my uncle with a child about five seasons old. They listened to my tale, and my aunt told me that I could stay as long as possible. My cousin, Snowdrop or Nightsnow or something of the sort, told me a tale………_

_**Flashback: (writing this down on parchment absentmindedly)**_

_A young white mousemaid with a small speck of black in the middle of her forehead pulling on a slightly older mousemaid's arm as if saying to please hurry._

_"Thandunthal, cum awn! Ah wanna telth 'oo a thtory abowet Wedwall! Pweese 'urry!"_

_The sand-colored mousemaid, thin and looking a bit wise for her age sighed. "Oh, I suppose." She spoke like a grown-up, and elder, strange for her age._

_The young Dibbun clapped her tiny paws excitedly. "Yay! Don' woowy." Seeing the sad look on her cousin's face, she quickly tried to make her feel better. "It be good. Nightthnow tellth 'oo a nithy nithe thtory."_

_She began with a solemn look on her face. "Onth apon a time ther wath a grate Wawior namend Mawten ee' Wawior. E' fawt a evul cat namend Tharmaeenia. She was evul. _

_Mawten an 'is fen' Noff wen an' got thom wawiorth to 'elp fite da' kitty. Thoon, dey defeated Tharmaeenia an' awll vurmin. Afer vat, Abbeth Garmainia got thome oideas, and thowed them to da woodwanders. Dey thoon made Wedwall, an' Mawten hung uppa 'is thword. Many theathons pathed an' I was bowan!"_

_Sandunal looked out the window. "Thank you for telling me your story. It's bedtime though, and I feel tiered."_

_Together, they climbed the stairs of the old cottage, Nightsnow forgetting to screech and hide, for she was happy to be with her cousin. Once they reached the bedroom that Nightsnow slept in, they saw a spare mattress filled with straw beside, apparently, Nightsnow's bed. At once, the young mousemaid jumped into her bed._

_"Goodnite, Thandunal. Sweep tite!" _

_The young sand-colored mouse climbed into the spare bed and snuggled into the covers, where she promptly fell asleep._

_An armored mouse walked towards her, where she instantly felt safe. The Warrior's mouth moved as he spoke his message._

_"the Sand beaten,_

_By her kin,_

_Of who were to sell her._

_Sand, you must,_

_Go to blood walls,_

_Unless a slave's life you want._

_If you stay here, a slave you'll be,_

_And no hope for Red walls, or thee._

_So go, my child, and stay at walls_

_For a kind warrior you are."_

_She woke the next morning, pondering. Sandunal soon went down, and packed a haversack, and left a note. Soon, the mousemaid set off._

_I look down, and see that I had recorded everything in that purposely hidden from the back of my mind. I will finish this tomorrow._

---

Emerald stepped back from the stoat, and was about to walk back to her friends, the shed robe forgotten, when the rat called to her.

"Slave, the master would like to speak to you privately in his tent."

Obediently, though seething with anger on the inside at his command, for her warrior spirit was slowly eroding from the fight she had with the outlaw stoat, she turned and walked to the warlord's tent.

Once inside, the warlord, gestured for the squirrelmaid to sit, and for the rat to leave. They were now alone.

---

Oveline looked in the direction of the slave, eyes closed, his thoughts zooming around in his head. He was confused, until he remembered a certain squirrel. That one.

His eyes snapped open astonished, though only a hint it was in his eyes. None of this, though, escaped the squirrel's keen notice. She spoke immediately, and he could tell that her warrior spirit was still roused. Oh, yes, he could tell when a beast was a warrior. Usually, right away, but this beast had cleverly hided it from his piercing view.

"You are hiding something from me. I can tell you are, so tell me!" She commanded him harshly. He sighed.

"Calm down, slave, calm down. I will tell you, but don't be surprised. A while ago, six seasons back, I met this band of slavers for the first time. Now, I didn't have any slaves back then, and desperately needed them. Secdar had only a few good slaves, for this was his first time. I bought them, and gave him the provisions in place of them. One of the slaves was a white squirrel with a warrior spirit.

He was poorly garbed, but there was a light, a spark, a good cause for a rebellion.

He, though, didn't go meek like the other slaves did, but he did do the work he was told to do, and more. I was amazed, because at first, I thought of woodlanders who had that warrior spirit, and had rebelled. He, as you know, didn't do that."

"Well, then, where is he now?" She was cooling down, much to the black fox's relief.

"I put him to work in the kitchen tent. He said his name to me. Do you know what it is?"

The squirrelmaid looked confused, puzzlement lapping like the ocean does to the shore upon her face.

"He said his name was Nauru."

---

In the Dark Forest, a young, middle-aged mouse ran down the steps from the highest tower on the gates. He ran towards two squirrels, one male and one female. He yelled.

"Dannflor! Songbreeze!" the squirrel's heads swiveled towards him.

"What is it, Martin?" the squirrelmaid's voice was that akin to Nightsnow's sweet songs.

"Song, I am very glad that you wrote that journeling."

"Why, Martin?"

The mouse explained. "I put 'seed-cases' in my riddle." Song grinned cheekily.

"All in a days work, Martin. What was the riddle?" Martin shook his head.

"I'm not allowed to tell, and besides, it's too long."

"Please Martin. Please!"

Martin groaned. "Fine, fine, but you're going to get me in trouble."

"A slave from the south, high as sky,

Will come to blood-red walls.

Grave news she will bring, of evil one's plans,

Of conquest of twin bells.

The one with two whites,

Will stay to spy, and help in greatest need.

That beast is the warrior,

Of which we've been waiting for,

To lift the sword to revenge.

So look to the south,

And wait for the first,

When summer reigns again.

And when seed-cases fall,

The army will run,

And warrior will come." He slapped a paw to his forehead a few minutes later.

"What is it Martin?" Dannflor asked.

"Good and bad. The good is that all of Mossflower and beyond hasn't heard my message. The bad is that………."

---

Almost all of Redwall Abbey's occupants woke up, and straight away, went to the gatehouse where Sandunal was sleeping happily, even after the message that Martin had unknowingly spoken to her.

---

A/N: Aren't I nice? Cliffhangers! Keeps the readers waiting on the edge of their seats. Oops- don't worry, I'll _try_ to update soon- my 'soon' is hmmm- three days. See? I'm nice, updating so quickly. Cheez, won't there be more reviews? Oh, just a minute- I thought that there _had_ to be something bad about Martin telling Song, and I have that riddle stuck in my head. I've memorized it! _A slave from the south……_ Okay, okay, I'll stop! Remember, please review! You might get a soda if you do! (Promise)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N-I know, long time, no see. Well, thank you, my latest reviewers for reviewing, Jesus somtin' somthin'. Sorry, I can't remember names all that well. Was it Jesuschick with some numbers at the end? Well, enough blabbering, I'll let you read now…….

Chapter 7:

Fists pounded on the gatehouse door in the middle of Sandunal's slumber. She groaned, and got up, rubbing her exhausted eyes. Staggering with sleep, she stumbled towards the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She muttered sleepily. At that time she opened the gatehouse door. Her eyes snapped wide awake at the sight before her.

Pretty much all of the beasts in the Abbey were in front of her door, all in their nightgowns. Ffindle pushed his way through the crowd.

"Can't a bally chap get through to 'is mate?" he muttered. With a few minutes of pushing and shoving, he managed to get to the mouse.

"What's happening, Ffindle?" She called.

The hare scratched his furry head. "No, but I had a bally dream from that jolly ol' mouse warrior of that sort, wot."

Sandunal began putting the puzzle pieces together. This was all sounding very familiar. "Ffindle, what was the first line of the riddle?

"A slave from the south, high as sky."

Sandunal slapped a paw to her head, and muttered, "I think that Martin's made a mistake." She then raised her voice. "Everybeast, listen to me."

They kept talking, murmuring, or emitting noises that Sandunal couldn't understand at all.

She took a deep breath. "EVERYBEAST, LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled. Instantly, the creatures became quiet.

"Thank you. Now who had a dream from Martin the Warrior?"

Every paw in the crowd shot up, and talking began to start.

"Who's bally dream started with this riddle-ish line- A slave from the south, somethin' somethin' somethin'." Again, a great mass of paws shot up.

"Thanks." She murmured. And, again, she shouted so that everybeast could hear her. "Please go back to your beds or your work. I know exactly what happened. Martin made a mistake." Mumbles of disbelief arose, and the infirmary keeper, Brother Hano spoke up.

"But Martin is perfect isn't he? After all, he did defeat a wildcat."

Sandunal shook her head. "Nobeast is perfect, and everybeast makes mistakes. Now, please all creatures, go back to sleep or to your own duties." Silently, the abbeybeasts went away from the gatehouse. Sandunal sighed with relief.

"Should I come inside o' that place with you, wot?"

Sandunal shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ffindle, but I have to finish a piece of writing I started yesterday."

Ffindle shrugged. "Okay, matey o' mine, but I'm goin' t'get some scoff." He then ran away at full speed towards the Great Hall, yelling.

"Gangway! Watch out for the 'hungy hare gettin' th' blinin' scoff for 'imself an' 'is matey! Gangwaaaaaaaaa-oof!" Ffindle ran right into Friar Thune. The shrew shook a paw-finger at the hare.

"Ye'll wait for breakfast like everybeast else, young'un! You're a horrible hare."

Ffindle's ears stood up straight with indignation. "Well, sirrah, I'm gettin' some food for the blinkin' recorder. Unless ye want 'er t'starve, I would bally well suggest that y'get out o' my way so my matey c'n 'ave a bit o' food after she's done wi' that parchment of hers."

The shrew, taken aback, stepped out of the hare's way, and stared at his back.

From afar, Sandunal saw this. She suppressed a giggle, and went into the gatehouse. Sighing, she sat down in the heavy chair, picked up the quill, and almost immediately fell into the nearly-forgotten memory.

_**Continued form of Sandunal's history:**_

_Flashback-still writing:_

_The mousemaid, still young, walked slowly and deliberately. She wished that she could erupt into a song when a bluebird trilled out a tune from the back of it's small, black head, but her instincts that she had formed when she was still with her Mother and Stepfather kept her from doing so. She sighed, and recalled the riddle that strange mouse had told her in those misted dreams. It was too strange, and she couldn't make a head or toe- well, maybe. The 'Red walls' was that Redwall Abbey. And she certainly didn't want to be a slave, as it had mentioned 'a slave you'll be'. She knew what sand was- her self, as it was the first four letters of her long name. 'Blood walls' probably also indicated the Abbey. She then realized that the mouse with the armor was that Martin creature that her cousin had told her about in the story. She shrugged. It was better to keep on going and not stop. She wanted to get to Redwall as soon as possible._

_(End Flashback)_

_After that, I traveled for a few days. Finnaly, I reached the abbey. At my age I had problems playing with the others, laughing, and all other things. I always chose to help the elders instead. Soon, I became the recorder when old Sister Rosabel Died. Quiet and serene, I was always seemingly perfect, but only because all of my happy emotions were locked up. I dwelled on the past all of the time, sometimes crying when Nobeast was around. That was, 'till Ffindle came around._

_He was the child of a Salamandastron hare general, sent to live at the Abbey. He saw me at first as no fun. Soon, though, I think that he sensed that something was wrong with me. At night, he took me up to the battlements and asked me what was wrong. I began to cry, and told him that my past was full of unhappieness, and that I would like to relieve it later, as soon as I was ready to. He understood, and told me not to dwell in the past, and live my life as full as possible. I took that, and became who I am now, full of sprite, fun, and happieness. I fear that this will happen again, though, because of my position. I will do everything though, to be the best I can possibly be._

A knock sounded on the door as she put down the pen, finished, accompanied by a muffled voice.

"Scoff's here! Open up, if y'bally well want t'eat!"

Sandunal opened up, stifling a chuckle. She heard a thump on the door, and a memory flashed to her mind. She called out through the wooden door.

"Ffindle, I'm going to open the door, so stop leaning against it!" She heard a scuffle, and Ffindle calling back.

"Yes, me maty, don't want the chow thrown all over the place like before, wot!" He retreated from the wooden block on hinges right as it opened up, reavealing the sand-colored mouse. She mock-glared at him.

" You came late with the vittles! How dare you!" she made a loud, fake sob. "I can't believe that you came late!"

Ffindle mocked her back, imitating the highland accent of his grandfather. "Weel, naow, wot 'ave we got 'ere? A crayin' maid? Och, the poor thing, ah guess that she'll 'ave tae got whitout breekfast, sobbin' laak that. Naow, Laddy boy, chin up, canae let the poor thin' kep crayin'. Give 'er a 'anky, an' be off with ye!"

Soon, they were rolling on the ground laughing. The Foremole came by, and shook his head.

"Burr aye, they'm bees daown roigt churful, though throwin' away their's respect from ee eldurs." He trundled off towards the Great Hall, where a soft din was heard from the number of beasts dining inside the building.

Hungry, Sandunal stood up, brushing some of the dirt off of her green habit. Ffindle jumped up, energy bouncing within his body.

"Come on, matey mine, lets do a few laps around the jolly abbey." He suggested, bouncing while he said the phrase.

Sandunal pushed him playfully. "Well, you go and do it. I, while you are running, will eat all of the grub."

Ffindle stopped jumping. "Do you mean it?" he whispered, shocked at the idea of him running, and the mouse eating.

"Yes." Sandunal walked inside, calling over her shoulder. "Go on, do your laps, I'll make sure you aren't as fat as the friar."

Her comment had the desiered effect.

Ffindle sighed. "I suppose the bally run c'n wait." They went inside together, talking about numerous things.

---

(near sunset)

Emerald threw the tent flap open, running. A million thoughts swirled wildly in her head, confusing her.

_Was Nauru really alive?_

_That white squirrel in the tent-was that him?_

_Why did that fox tell her all of this?_

_Why was she here, any way?_

She suddenly heard another voice in her head, that of which she did not recognize.

**_Emerald, you are here to defend the weak, destroy those evil, and rescue millions of lives. You are the one. _**

Running in the green and white tunic, she headed towards the cooking tent, ready to get some rest. Fighting that fast sometimes took the strength out of her, though she had a little bit of energy left.

---

A/N-CLIFFHANGER! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Never mind. Keep reading. I am annoying.

---

Emerald staggered in, heading for her cot near the other two already-sleeping beasts were, but suddenly, arms were wrapped around her throat.

"Weel, now, how are ye goin' t' get out 'o this one, eh?" Emerald recognized the voice of the weasel Wartbite, and immediately relaxed, using a trick that her brother had taught her. She heard him cackle with glee, and loosen his grip.

Like lightning she broke out of the arm lock, and whipped around, grabbing a nearby kitchen knife in her hand. When she saw the stoat, her anger burned up within her, energy restored.

The weapons clashed, sword and knife.

---

Nauru was coming back to the tent after washing the dishes with Garren, staggering under the weight of numerous pots and pans.

"Well, now, Nauru my boy, what about that squirrelmaid that you've taken a shine to eh?" Garren asked.

Nauru groaned. He _still_ thought that he had……_feelings_ for her. He was about to tell Garren the truth about him and Emerald, or Emera as he liked to call her, when he heard metal clashing in the cooking tent. This probably wasn't good at all.

Nauru set down his load, and extracted a huge fish-meat cleaver from the bag of recently cleaned knives. "Come on." He muttered, and set off running in the direction of the tent.

Confused, Garren stood there. He looked in the direction of where his friend was heading, and heard the metal sounds. He paled, and grabbed a knife.

Nauru ripped open the tent flap, and immediately saw what was happening. Emera's companions-Nightsnow and Sky- were trying to get towards the assortment of stones and knives, the stones used to crush herbs and other plants. Emera was fighting the stoat who had been thrown out.

---

Emerald grunted with effort-knife against sword isn't the ideal predicament you want to get yourself in, unless you have the sword. She kept to the basic maneuvers that she had been taught by her brother. _It's better_ she reasoned,_ to keep your true abilities a secret_. She feared, though, that she would have to use one very soon, unless Nightsnow or Sky knew how to fly. _That's it!_

"Sky! Fly!" she yelled. Nightsnow and Wartbite looked confused, but luckily, Sky understood.

The ottermaid walked back to the cots, and on the way, whispered to Nightsnow.

"Paws and knees, please."

Confused at first, Nightsnow did not grasp what Sky wanted her to do. But when her otter friend reached the hanging beds, and took a deep breath, she understood.

Immediately, the mousemaid fell into a position as if she were about to crawl away.

Sky began to run, a cartwheel when she was halfway to her friend. Once she reached Nightsnow, though, she stepped onto her, and pushed with one foot.

She soared though the air, with Wartbite lunged for her, forgetting about his opponent. Emerald pounced, thrusting the knife foreward.

Unfortunately, Wartbite had jumped, therefore Emerald, instead of hitting him in the stomach, hit him in the leg.

He screeched with pain, and his paw went to his leg, the other groping in the thin air for the otter. She was gone.

He swiveled suddenly, meaning to cut the squirrelmaid's throat, instead scoring a small, shallow cut on her shoulder. When she didn't respond, he barreled out the side tent flap. Sky threw one of the small, smooth rocks.

It went a ways, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, came another yowl of anguish, as the stone hit him, hard, on the wrist. There was a faint snap as the bone broke, crippling it for the moment.

No beast had noticed Nauru standing in the tent flap entrance, who had watched all.

Emerald felt a familiar sense, prickling at her skin. She hadn't had it since she was six seasons old………..

The moon was unclouded, fully, as Emerald turned around.

---

A figure, cloaked in black, swept into the Abbot's room. It drew scroll from it's robes and set it on the Merrick's bedside table. The beast stood there for a moment, then excited the room.

It flowed down the stairs, into the Great Hall, and out of the hall's massive doors. From there, the mysterious creature continued over the lawn, until it reached the main gates. As silently as the beast could with the small groans of protest sounding from the hinges, it opened the gates a crack, and slipped out, closing the great, elaborately carved slabs of wood behind it.

---

Ffindle's dreams of the huge banquet that the Abbey dwellers had made in his honor, all for him-and maybe Sandunal, since she was pretty much the only creature that stood up for him, and was his partner in crime-suddenly turned into a mist. Soon, he saw a figure appear out of the mists. It was that Martin thingammy beast.

His voice sounded urgent. "Go now, perilous, and save the Sand. She is in danger!"

Ffindle woke up, and remembered what Martin had said immediately. He was confused. _Sand-what Sand?_ He pondered this until he heard, with the gigantic ears of his, the Great Hall gates close. Curious, he went to investigate, grabbing his saber on the way.

When he had reached the groaning gates, there was silence. Then, a scream, so familiar…….

"I'm comin' Sandunal!" he wrenched open the gates and roared.

---

A/N- CLIFFHANGER! An author's greatest joy. Don't grumble, please-this is page 16!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N- Thank you, all of my reviewers! LOTS of people. Gotta go, now, sister wants me to watch a movie with her-read on! Toodles 'till the end!

---

Chapter 8:

The creature screamed as the figure that suddenly appeared in front of it, grabbing its' arm and pushing the hood back. The creature was Sandunal.

The tan mouse straightened up, and recomposed herself. Looking her captor in the eye, she saw that it was somebeast familiar……….

Her mother.

The mousewife snarled at her, baring her teeth, but then stopped, and smiled. It wasn't a nice smile at all.

"Come," she rasped. "You are to be a wedding present for my daughter, a slave, though my oldest," she looked around, as if making sure no one overheard her. "ran away. She was to be her youngest sister's slave. But yo-" she swivled at a roar coming within the gates, now opening to reveal a hare charging out, yelling.

"I'm comin' Sandunal!"

The mousewife momentarily glared at her. "You!" recognizing her daughter for the first time. She turned back, whipping a rusty knife out of her home-spun dress. She laid the blade across Sandunal's' throat.

"Ye come any closa, she's dead!"

Ffindle stopped, worry in his eyes, but just in case, he circled, and called back.

"Let go o' my matey nice n' quiet, or I might 'ave t'do sumthin' that you'll forever regret harming a single fur off her skin."

The mousewife cackled. "Oh, now, I won't, cus', yore gonna let us go. Now!" she pressed the blade in for a second, the released the pressure. Sandunal was aware of a few trickles of blood dropping to the ground, about a drop at a time. She kept her head high though, and whispered boldly across the space between her and Ffindle, an idea forming in her head.

"Just let her. Give me the mountain, and the blood, as farewell." She spoke in a riddle, so that her mother wouldn't notice.

Luckily, he understood. Lowering his Saber, he nodded to her. "As you wish, friend."

She sneered at him. "Wise choice, rabbit. Now we'll go." She turned, steering her child towards the forest. As soon as she did, though, Ffindle tipped back his head and roared like no other creature could.

"To the gates! To the battlements! REDWAAAAAALLLL! EULAILIAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The clamor of surprised beasts rang within the Abbey, and for a moment, the mousewife looked surprised and scared. But, a quick thinker, she laughed and ran.

Once the mouse and her captive were at Mossflower wood, she stopped for a moment.

"Tell those occupants that you saw Hathillia Karth of the Juskablitht tribe, the only Juska tribe made of mice." With that, she vanished into the forest.

Ffindle stared at the place where they had vanished, and was surprised to hear a struggling voice call out a short, swift message.

"She's my mother!"

Ffindle looked shocked, and turned back. He saw Friar Thune run surprisingly quickly for his age, and thundered at him.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me this is one of your pranks, either! 'Cause if it is, I'll ask permission from the Abbot to have you spend the rest of this season within the Infirmary."

Ffindle shook his head, looking down at the damp earth, feeling as if he were many seasons older. "She's gone." He murmured.

"Huh?"

The hare looked up. "Sandunal's gone! Can't you see?" he collapsed, sobbing. "And I couldn't save her." He wailed at the sky. "SHE'S GONE!"

---

The abbot woke up, feeling discombobulated. He turned over, and heard a yell.

"To the gates! To the battlements! REDWAAAAAALLLL! EULAILIAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The Abbot jumped startled. He put on his green robe, and by chance looked towards his bedside table. There was a scroll.

Curious, he picked it up, and unfastened it. The parchment crackled softly as he unfolded it. Black ink spider-webbed across the paper, and Merrick recognized the writing as Sandunal's.

He began to read.

Transfixed, he read faster and faster as the mousemaiden's history was told to him. He read about her past, how she was abused by her mother, how her feelings were locked inside her, forced to not show any 'weakness'. When he finished reading, ironically, a shout rang from outside.

"SHE'S GONE!"

He recognized the voice, and ran down the steps and through the Great Hall. There was no time to spare.

---

Emerald stood still for a few seconds after she had turned around, staring at the figure, standing in the tentway.

She ran.

Nauru held his arms out, and clasped them around her once she had taken a hold of him. Garren, unfortunately, arrived at that moment.

"Now, Nauru, 'ow many ti-" with an eye-blurring speed, Nauru dislodged himself from Emerald's grip and appeared behind the mouse cook, with a paw over Garren's mouth.

"Now Garren," Nauru said softly. "Won't you give me a chance to speak?"

The mouse nodded, puzzlement whirling around in his eyes, confused at the way the young squirrel was talking to him.

"Good." Nauru released Garren. "To make explanations short, she's………. she's my sister."

The mouse blinked, then started to laugh hysterically. Gasping for breath, tears running down his face, he spoke.

"You……you _can't_……. you don'……even……look the same! It's a joke……isn't it?"

"It's no joke. Definitely not."

Garren continued to laugh, then started to cry, sobbing as if some paw was gripping him tightly, cutting off circulation to his body. Nightsnow ran over, and placed a paw to his forehead. She looked at Emerald.

"He's sick." She whispered. "I have a suspicion, but need more symptoms in order to be sure." The mousemaid shook her head. "I just hope that I'm wrong."

They carried Garren into the tent, where Nightsnow promptly shooed them out. All they could do now was wait.

---

Martin paced back and forth, troubled. His mate, Gnoff, leaned against one of the Dark Forest Gate's multi-colored walls, which shut the bad vermin, birds, and woodlanders alike out of the peaceful, beautiful forest surrounded by fire and lava, though there was a strip of land leading to the Gate, so that for now, the newcomers-only the newcomers- weren't hurt for the time being, until they were judged by a group of birds, vermin, and Woodlanders, though in the Dark Forest, the 'vermin' were called 'veiledens' the veiledens liking the 'v' sound in the beginning of the word.

Gnoff tried to stop his friend. "Matey, you've got to stop pacin' 'round. Otherwise-"

"I know, Gnoff!" Martin snapped. Immediately, recognizing what he did, he apologized.

"Sorry, Gnoff. I'm just agitated and unhappy." Martin covered his face with his left paw. Gnoff gently pried them apart.

"Mate, tell me. Please."

Martin sighed, and everything came tumbling out.

"Sandunal. You remember me telling you about her?"

Gnoff nodded.

"Her mother took her captive, and she-" Martin faltered. "She's one of Redwall's hopes of surviving, and was going to play a big part. Now it looks like Redwall will fall!"

Gnoff patted his mate's shoulder, deep in thought. After a few minutes, his face broke into a bonfire.

"Don't worry, Martin matey. The Prince of Ideas is here." He broke out into a cheeky grin.

"So, what's the plan, O snatcher of pies?"

"Have you any courtesy, O swinger of swords?"

"Please tell me what you are thinking, O jester of all?"

"Is that so? Well, now, O sagacious snake, I-"

"Enough!" yelled a voice behind them, and a annoyed looking hedgehog popped his head out of a door to a small house nearby. He glared at the two mice, and was about to give them a piece of his mind, when they swiveled around, and he recognized one of them.

"Sorry, Martin." He apologized. Martin gaped in surprise.

"Pallum!"

The hedgehog scratched his spikes. "I haven't seen you in a huge number o' seasons, mate!"

"Who's this?" Gnoff tapped his shoulder.

"Uh-oh." Martin muttered, then sighed.

"Gnoff, it goes a long way back. Before I met you." Martin began to speak of what had happened before, but a shout occurred from the gates.

"ALL JUDGES TO THE GATES! NEW BEAST OUTSIDE OF THE WALL!"

---

A/N- Is that a better cliffie, huh? IS IT? ANSWER ME! Oh, well, I'll find out later. Not as long as the others, only 10 pages (actually less than ten) But _still_- I updated faster than chapter 7. I know, bad chapter. I just didn't have that stroke of geniuses this time. BYE, and REVIEW!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Well, long time, I know. Okay, please review. Was going to update sooner, but horrid computer problems _always_ seem to get in the way. ALWAYS!

I don't like those.

Well, reviewers and readers alike, even if this phrase is usually pin-pointed to food- BON APPETITE! AND-REVIEW-SOON! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Chapter 9:

Sandunal was kept at knifepoint as her mother crashed through the forest, pulling her hated daughter alongside her. It was a matter of minutes, though, before they stopped, alongside a creek running towards the ocean, a rivulet from River Moss. It looked ferocious, white foam covering the tops of the fast-moving ripples that crashed and thundered all the way to the ocean.

"We stop here." Hathillia said gruffly. Sandunal, surprised at how her mother was going to keep her with her, until Hathillia uttered the harsh, loud croak of a crow. _Always,_ she remembered, _or at least most of the time, most beasts used bird cries or something of the sort to signal something. This truly will be no exception. _

Sandunal was right.

A group of sinster looking mice, heavily tattoed, gently leapt out of the trees.

"What've ye got there, Hath, eh?" the speaker had a rough voice, and sounded like it wasn't used a lot.

Hathillia grinned at him, revealing two lines of yellow, crooked teeth emitting from swollen gums. "My daughter."

Another mouse, though muscular, swung its arms pointlessly.

"So ye've finally caught 'er, then?" Its voice was feminine, and Sandunal was surprised, though her face continued to be stony and expressionless.

"Oh, yes, Carmine, I did. How is Redlip doing?"

The female chuckled. "My son is doing fine, thank you. Though he is biting his lip, from nervousness. He's scared about marrying your daughter, though," she pursed her lips. "if he keeps on biting, he'll look like a horrible groom." She then looked at Sandunal, suddenly realizing something-Carmine was somewhat a dimwit, and got things sort of slowly.

"Say, you'll be my son's slave, won't you? Hathillia said that she was going to bring back a non-Juskablitht from that Abbey, an' she or he was to be the slave. After all, they _are_ going to be the rulers after the bride's father dies, and-"

Hathillia hissed a warning, stopping the muscular mouse from revealing too much. Unfortunately for them, Sandunal had patched the information up to a conclusion.

_So…..Blitht is my _real_ last name, then, not Joycall, as I failed to mention that that is what my parents had always told me that that was my last name in that fateful recording, my half-sister is marrying this 'Redlip', and they are going to kill my Stepfather after these two marry. Oh beast, is this going to be quite the wedding, and me caught in the middle of it, too. _A stray thought caught her mind, terrorizing her, but taking careful strides not to show it. _What if this Juska tribe thinks that _I_ killed him. Great. Oh, am I going to have to find a way to get out of this._

"…….up. Otherwise, she'll escape." Finished the leader of the group, who, ironically, was the mouse who had talked first. He then beckoned to another mouse, the smallest of the group.

"Nightblend, bring the rope here." As the black mouse stumbled towards him, Hathillia wrinkled her small, unusually pink, nose in disgust.

"Did you _have_ to take him on the expedition? He always makes mistakes, Ruther."

" He's only seven seasons, Hath, he's bound to make mistakes."

"Exactly my point, he's too young to join the Tree patrol. He should still be in coastal training camp, you know."

Ruther sighed. "If we didn't, you know that those Salamandastron hares and those three badgers would suspect us. We're only a small way away from that mountain, and they don't completely trust us."

"Shhhhhh! The Slave might hear us, and give our position away."

"How could she? She'd be miles away from that Redhall, and she couldn't signal Salamandastron, 'cause we'll be keeping an eye on her." He changed the subject abruptly, for Nightblend had reached the patrol leader. "Tie her up, and wave those plants under her nose."

The mouse fumbled, and got this strange looking plant out of a pouch that he carried. He waved the cutting under her nose, and the last thing that Sandunal heard was a small voice.

"I'm sorry."

---

Hathilla watched with satisfaction as her daughter, who she hated dearly, collapsed from the cutting of the 'Sleepasleep' plant, as the Flitcheye, or something of that sort of name, had given them in exchange for some of the fish they had caught in the early days of the Juskablitht. This tribe of ferrets unknowingly gave the Juska tribe of mice seeds, as one of the plants was in flower, and the flowers contained the seeds. It was a long way to the camp, and unburned 'Sleepasleeps' worked better for long distances. Oh, it was going to be delightful making Sandunal pay for her first husband's death. Oh, was she, and the first way was to be branded with the tattoo of a slave, only used once before.

---

Ffindle was livid. He was angry at himself for not saving Sandunal, angry at that Hathillia for taking her, and angry at the Friar for not believing him.

"Hah! She's not gone, young hooligan, she's in the gatehouse, fast asleep. I saw her there before she went to bed, young hooligan. So stop that noise and let the others actually sleep."

Ffindle lowered his voice menacingly. "Go look then. You think that I lie all of the time, but I don't. Sandunal was the only one to accept me fully, no one else didn't. So go, look."

Friar Thune laughed again, confident that he was right and Ffindle was wrong, and up to his tricks again.

"No! She is asleep. And I know it." When he saw the Abbot approaching quickly, he called out to him, thinking that the Abbot would back him up.

"Merrick! This young'n says that Sandunal isn't in bed. Please help sort this situation out, though I'm su-"

"Thune, stop!" Merrick cried. "Before you accuse him of being wrong, check! There is no time. Check."

Grumbling, Friar Thune made his way to the gatehouse, his bulk pushing past people.

Ffindle stared at the ground, tears of anger in his eyes. How dare that shrew! How dare he think that he was using Sandunal for a prank! How dare he!

He looked up at the Abbot, tears blurring the image of the Father of Redwall. Quickly, he caught sight of the scroll Abbot Merrick was holding.

"Father, what are you holding?" he inquired.

"Nothing." The Father replied quickly. He his the scroll up his sleeve. Ffindle knew then.

"So she's finally revealed it." he muttered.

---

"So she's finally revealed it." Ffindle muttered. Merrick felt his heart pounding within his chest.

"What?"

"Her past."

"You know?"

"I know."

"How, though?"

"She told me. She needed somebody to talk to." Ffindle looked up at the Abbot. "She needed her youth back. She needed to run. To jump. To shout. To actually enjoy herself for the first time. But you," he started to growl at Merrick unintentionally. "You stood in the way. You told her not to. So she couldn't. She had to do it in secret. I was the only way, she always said." He howled at the Abbot, needing to pour his anger out.

"YOU- STOPPED HER FROM BEING WHO SHE REALLY IS!" He pounded on Merrick, hitting him in the chest. Hard.

The Abbot stood there quietly, understanding why Ffindle was angry. Sandunal, he realized was his only friend. He just couldn't let her go.

Friar Thune was suddenly there, trying to stop Ffindle.

Merrick stopped him.

"She's not there, is she?" he asked quietly.

Thune shook his head.

Merrick raised his voice.

"I NEED EVERYBEAST TO GO TO THE GREAT HALL. NOW!" to Ffindle, he added in a quieter tone.

"You don't have to come."

Ffindle nodded, and stopped punching. "I'll need t'stay for awhile and find some beasts within the Abbey to 'elp me. An' I have a feelin' that I should stay 'ere."

Merrick nodded. After that, he joined the great mass of bodies flowing into the Great Hall.

---

"No. No, no, no, no, NO!" Nightsnow's frantic mutterings climbed higher as she dabbed at Garren's burning forehead.

"What's wrong? What do you need?" Nauru practically flew through the tent opening.

"He's got…. Neriver's lung disease, I think. It's fatal unless treated within two hours on the laughing/ crying incidents that mark how much time he has left until his journey to the Dark Forest with the Keethia plant. Unfamiliar name-only great herbalists use it and know it. Luckily, my mother was one of those, and showed me the plant was. Luckily, it grows in canyons, though it only is useful when picked at midnight, when it is dry. The problem is," she gestured to a group of jars, "Your friend didn't know that this was a healing plant, and used it in last night's meal. A lot of it! So now, I only have a few stalks to crumble up, and I need quite a few. I should think five more, to make nine, since the fever is pretty bad. Last time I saw this," She trailed off, then picked up the strings of her speech again. "I- I saw this on my baby sister, who-died."

Emerald had been listening. She nodded to herself, and crept silently off. She _had_ to find that plant very, very soon. Now.

---

A/N: Short, bad chapter. I know.

For those of you wondering about the Martin/Gnoff/Dark Forest, I decided to leave it out this time. Just feeling the evil and relishing it.

Please review, now. Dad made me lower the font to 12, so the appearance of pages makes me think that this is….. a little more that 7 pages long. Well, goodbye, and I hope that you readers review, 'cause I bally well got up at five a.m. for y'all.

Ffindle(shaking head mournfully): I'm ashamed that you, of all hoo-hue-oh, whatchamicallits-is m'jolly author.

Sandunal: I've got to agree with you.

Ffindle: Sandunal! You're back!

Sanduanl:Only because it's break time. Hey! (catches sight of a storiewriter trying to desperately hide behind a group of crates) Why did you have me get captured, eh?

Storiewriter (sighing): Make the story longer. You know, (makes evil grin) I _could_ kill you off-I am the writer to the story you're in.

Sandunal: (gulp)


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you, all of my reviewers. Thank you, Clouded Horizon, Sabrepaw, and Lord Brocktree for reviewing CONSTANTLY.

Chapter 10:

_SPLAT!_

Sandunal woke with a start, feeling something-probably a liquid of some sort- trickled down her arm.

_The dibbuns. It must be the dibbuns,_ she thought, still half-asleep. A rotten smell wafted up to her nose.

Sandunal was jerked back into reality as she looked down at her upper-arm, where the whites from a seagull egg carried the yolk down to her elbow, leaving behind a clear, sticky trail on her sand-fur

Harsh laughter made her look up. What she saw surprised her.

A young mouse, that of about three seasons leered at her maliciously, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, look a' wha' we go' 'ere, mates! A liddle slave!"

Mice emerged from shabby looking tents, cheering, all talking in a verminy talk, like those who are born and raised wildly.

"A liddle slave!"

"Goo' thinkin', Luker!"

"She'll b' fun to le' loo' a bun' o' eggs a'!"

"I'll get 'm!"

They spoke with many letters missing, speaking in a drawl. One poked his rat-like nose in.

"An' it's a burm burm!"

"Wha's a 'burm burm?'"

"A 'emale, or thomthin' like et."

The first mouse that she had seen was obviously the leader, who gave out orders, of which his fellow villains obeyed.

"Tumblguts! Get 'ome blun' arrers t'poke 'er wi'."

"Yep!"

"Narropaw, knives! Cu' 'er fur off!"

"Gla'ly!"

Thurntoo'! Eggies!"

"Go' 'em!"

He turned around to Sandunal. "I lo' a 'emale. S' 'elp'ess, 'ey are."

His words were scornful, and made sense. Females were obviously a lesser creature, unless they were a warrior, in this camp. Raging fire swept over her body, and she tried to control it. Better see if anything was holding her back.

There was a short rope tied to one of her back paws, restraining her from getting away.

She was almost unable to lease her anger, and shook with fury. This, though, the rude mouse took at a different meaning.

"S' scared! Ooooo- I likey scared on's."

Approaching footpaws forced Sandunal to not lunge at him and bite.

"Go' th' eggies!"

"No navs!"

"No arrrers e'er!"

The leader grinned. "Oh, we' 'e c'n 'ave a trowin' 'contes'."

Two dibbun mice eagerly stepped up, each one with an egg in their paws.

"STOP!" a voice yelled.

The mouse cursed under his breath, and whispered so only the group and Sandunal could hear.

"'Idee 'oles." He hissed. Immediately, the young mice dove into holes, big enough for one small dibbun each. The leader looked around, but his hard, black eyes rested on where Sandunal lay.

"LUKER! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOUNG MOUSE!" a semi-pretty mousemaiden walked down the hill, clothed in a long skirt and a tunic, both yellow so that they brought out her rich brown fur and black eyes.

"w's on'y trowin' eggies a' th' slavie." He mumbled, eyes looking at the sand.

For the first time, the mousemaiden's eyes swept over to Sandunal, who was sitting cross-legged in the sand.

"Oh." She murmured quietly. "So you're the slave for my wedding?"

Sandunal had recognized her. She had known it once she had hear her voice. But- something was in there, a carefulness, something that wouldn't be in a beast's eyes that enjoyed torturing somebeast.

"Hello, _sister_." She replied, nearly spitting out the words. She looked almost like her mother.

The mousemaid looked dumbstruck. "Sister?" she asked hoarsly.

"Mama, wazza goin' awn?" Luker tugged at the mousemaiden's tunic.

---

Rosilla was surprised. Her mother had said that her half-sister was ugly, ate bugs every day, was named Lilia, and had run away at three seasons. But this wasn't true. Surly not. She had always pictured her sister like this, though perhaps with black eyes like hers, instead of the blazing gray.

She knew that somehow, she had caused misery in her sister's life. Somehow. Sometime. Rosilla didn't know when.

"How did I hurt you?" she whispered. Her sister looked at her, glaring accusingly, but then the expression softened.

" It wasn't you- it was our mother." Came the soft reply. She clearly didn't want to talk, though Rosilla wanted to find her name out, and what her history was.

Her son continued to tug at her skirt. "Mama, Mama, wha' goin' on?"

"Quiet, Luker, I need to talk with this so-called 'slave'" she gently pried Lukers paws off of her skirt, and shoed him playfully away. "Go play with those friends of yours who are hiding in those holes you dug a week ago."

Luker's eyes widened, and began to call out anxiously. "Noo 'ideout! Nee' t' fine noo 'ideout!"

His gang poured out of the holes and followed their leader across the shifting sands of the dunes, seeking a new place to carry out their villainous deeds.

"I'm sorry." Rosilla apologized. "He was partially brought up by Mother, so I have little rein on his actions."

"It's okay."

"I was wondering," Rosilla ventured. "if you could tell me your past." She sat patiently, and hopefully.

The sand-colored mousemaid's expression darkened. "Too many times, too, too many times have I told this. Twice too many."

"Please? I want to know my sister."

"As I do mine."

Rosilla threw up her paws in defeat. "Fine, fine. Alright now! Now I have to warn you, I can only tell you later, and when anybeast, especially Mother," Rosilla lowered her voice. "I will have to act rough and unkind, even though I don't want to." The chocolate-colored mouse stood, and winked heartily. "Right now, I have to track a certain mouse's pawsteps, so that I can foil his plans to become the most obnoxious mouse in the camp." Catching herself, she asked one last question.

"What is your name?"

The reply came smooth, swift and short. "Sandunal."

---

A/N: Shall I end it? Right here? Now? Darn- (remembers telling a clouded horizon that she would include- can't say)-sigh- keep reading.

---

A shadow edged across a tattered tent, where in front, vermin sat around a small, flickering fire.

"Eh-lookit wot I got, mates." A rat held up a bunch of dried-up stalks. "Food!"

The shadow decided that this was the time to move in.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." The shadow whispered in one weasel's ear.

"Huh? Wazzat?"

But the shadow was already at the other side of the camp. It now rubbed it's paws in anticipation.

"Awoooooooooooooooooooooo!" the shadow moaned. The vermin looked up, and the rat's paws began to shake, dropping the black stems near the edge of camp.

"A-a-a-a-a-a-a g-g-g-g-g-host-t-t-t-t." one of them whispered.

"H-h-hauntin' sp-p-p-p-pirits."

A clamor borke out, as the frightened beasts began to run around their dirty camp fightenedly.

Nobeast saw the shadow.

They didn't see the missing stems, either.

---

Emerald staggered in, panting. She held up the eight dried stems triumphantly, but then the grin that had been growing on her face evaporated as she saw the scene laid out before her.

Garren lay still, showing no signs of breathing. Nightsnow and Nauru bent over him, heads bowed in grief.

---

"……possibly can be." Merrick finished, re-rolling the scroll up as he repeated the last lines. A shocked silence filled the Hall as the last words that had emitted from the Abbot's mouth rang out.

Merrick took this silence in. Even he had been shocked to find this. He understood now. She had been quiet because of her past, and a while after Ffindle arrived, a bit more loud, but on the inside resisting the urge to run around, to act like a dibbun and regain the sense of youth that she had lost at so young of an age. Merrick regretted reprimanding her for writing that recording. It had caused her to run away for awhile and get captured. He felt as if were all his fault. He hated it.

A voice rang out.

"We should look for her at once." The voice belonged to Thune, his face red with crying.

"No! Don't!" Ffindle called out. All beasts turned to look at him.

His eyes were glassy, clouded. His voice sounded strange, almost half asleep, but boomed out.

"Martin speaks." Whispered a hedgehog beside Merrick. The Abbot, though his face was faced forward, heard the rustle of parchment being pulled out.

Ffindle, Martin speaking through him, started to speak again.

"Do not catch the Sand,

Do not go a-searching,

Untill the fast talker comes.

The Perilous and the Leader

Must follow the instructions,

While others look for the blue.

Perilous, Leader, Sand, and others,

Will arrive after the sky,

Preperations made,

Warriors on parade,

To defend the Red, Red walls.

So Abbot, tell them now,

Of riddle I have sent you."

---

Martin ran up the steep steps, panting all the way. Gonff, though, maintained a cheeky grin all of the way, panting ever-so-slightly.

The Prince of Mousethieves flashed a smile at his exhausted buddie, who, of course, was panting with effort.

"Too old, huh?"

Martin aimed a paw at Gonff's ear.

"Are you sure? I thought it was you who was getting old. Besides, we're almost there, and I've been here longer than you." The warrior put on a burst of speed, and disappeared around one of the many curving corners of the spiraled stairs.

Gonff didn't bother to catch up. He was only going to do that if Columbine found the-

"GONFF! YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Gonff sighed, and completed his thought out loud. "Candied chesnuts." He hollered back to his wife.

"Getting business done, my charming mouselet!"

"You get down here, right now, or I'll come and get you!" paws echoed up the stairs.

"Got to run." Gonff muttered, and quickly ascended the stairs. He had to find a hiding spot- and a brilliant idea came to him.

---

Martin sat down in his spot, overlooking the long, wide strip of sand, like that near the mountain Salamandastron, which was surrounded by the lava.

On the strip of land, a scared, cautious-looking, tubby mouse glanced at either side of him. He was wearing a dirty smock covering his upper body, with an apron tied around his waist. His fur was a light brown color, mixed with the grey hairs of an elder.

A booming voice next to Martin rang out. "What is your name?"

The lord of Salamandastron, or the one who had founded the Long Patrol, Lord Brocktree, spoke.

A timid answer came from the frightened mouse. "My name is-" the voice trailed off, as the quaking mouse stood there.

"Let me try." Martin ventured at Brocktree. The Badger Lord nodded his approval.

"Please tell us your name, and where you came from." Martin spoke gently, soothing the elder.

"My-" the mouse coughed, and tried again. "My name is Garren, and I come from" he faltered.

"Go on." Martin prodded gently.

"From the camp of Oveline."

Martin couldn't believe his ears. Thoughts whirled in his head, and he desperately wanted to ask the beast questions, but he knew that he wasn't allowed to. Until, that was, he was, if, anyhow, inside of the Dark Forest.

"And you died of the fever, I assume."

"Yes."

Martin pondered what to do, and then asked quietly permission from Brocktree."May I?"

The Badger Lord knew that this was the only way, and grunted his approval.

"Garren, I need to-" his words were cut off as the Lord of Vermin rised up out of the lava. Trentilis, the white Wolverine.

---

A/N: I know, 'tis confusing. Well, Okay? Nokay? Inbetweenkay? TELL ME! And the Brocktree thing in this-I just though of the name, and this story-it constantly changes, it being from the back of my head. I didn't even plan Sandunal getting captured- Really and- never mind, I'm babbling. Just REVIEW, YOU- (cut off from microphone)


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I can't believe it! My reviewers are deserting me! (Sob!)

Chapter 11:

Ffindle blinked his eyes, and the clouded gaze dissolved into a look of complete puzzlement. "What am I bally well doin' 'ere? I didn't start over 'ere."

"You don't remember?" the Abbey Infirmary keeper called out excitedly.

"No. Why in the blazes should I, and what don't I remeba'?"

The Sister looked at the crowd. "It was a message! A message from Martin!" The abbeybeasts fell into a loud murmur of surprise. Why give a message through a troublemaker?

"Abbot?" a voice asked quietly to his right. Turning, the Abbot saw the hedgehog who had been beside him "May I?"

Merrick nodded. This visiting scholar wasn't that much of a speaker, but knew all about the abbey and its history. Abbot Merrick took a deep breath.

"QUIET!" he roared with surprising loudness. The creatures stopped in mid-sentence.

"Thank you. Now, our latest visitor would like to speak." He, not literally, handed the stage to the visitor.

"Now, I have not seen this happen to a beast since the time of Tammo, captain of the Long Patrol during the reigns of Abbess Tansy of Redwall and of Salamandastron, Lord Russano. Martin has a curious way of telling everybeast when danger occurs, and…….." he babbled on for quite a while, bring everybeast. "…….I have noticed that many of you are quite bored. Anyhow, Let us ponder this riddle. I wrote it down….here it is." After a while, the elderly hedgehog smoothed a piece of paper out and began to recite the strange riddle.

"Do not catch the Sand,

Do not go a-searching,

Until the fast talker comes

The Perilous and Leader

Must follow the instructions,

While others look for the blue.

Perilous, Leader, Sand, and others

Will arrive after the sky.

Preparations made,

Warriors on parade

To defend the Red, Red walls.

So Abbot, tell them now,

Of riddle I have sent to you.

"The most clear of all, though, is that the Abbot has had a message from Martin that he hasn't told anybeast present." The hedgehog sent him a inquiring look.

"I know. Fine. I will tell you, as I have been meaning to, but I was counting on Sandunal to be here. Oh, well, I should go on." The Abbot cleared his throat, and began his riddle again.

"A slave from the south, high as sky,

Will come to blood red walls.

Grave news she will bring, of Evil One's plans,

Of conquest of twin bells.

The one with two whites,

Will stay to spy

And help in greatest need.

That beast is the warrior,

Of which we've been waiting for,

To lift the sword to revenge.

So look to the south,

And wait for the first,

When summer reigns again.

And when seed-cases fall,

The army will run,

And warrior will come."

A still silence overcame the audience as they let the words sink into their minds, from youngest to eldest. They all understood the plain meaning of the message:

Trouble was brewing.

---

The raspy voice of Trentilis filled the air, changing it from a pleasurable temperature to desert-hot. Even some wisps of air looked slightly gray.

"It is time. I have waited ever since the beginning, when Fairon, that mouse, beat me in battle and banished me to be Lord of the Ever-Burning Fires. It is time to fight again."

"I will." Growled Brocktree. The wolverine laughed. It sounded full of detestment.

"Don't you know? The stronger the opponent, if I lose, the less time I have in the Ever-Burning Fire and if I win, the more time in this Forest."

Martin knew. He was about to challenge him, but a voice behind him whispered.

"Matey, don' go out there. Find out if he would be there longer if a mousemaid, young at that, would make him stay longer."

Martin knew exactly who Gonff had in mind. "Trentilis," he began. The Lord of the Ever-Burning Fires turned towards him.

"You challenge me?"

"No, I have a question. If a mousemaid, still a young'un, were to beat you, how long would you spend in the domain of yours?"

The wolverine was struggling to bite back the answer, but the old oath held him to reveal his secrets. "Thrice the time."

"We chose Mariel of Redwall." At the nomination, the warrior mousemaid suddenly appeared, twirling her knotted length of rope. She looked confused.

"What 'm I doin' here?" Mariel then quickly noticed Martin. "Oh. What d'ya want me to do?"

Martin spoke to her as an equal. "You see that wolverine down there? Well, if we want to keep him out of here, and I know you've been wanting to use your Gullwhacker for quite a while so…..the challenge. Will you accept it?"

A loud guffaw came from the Lord of the Ever-Burning Fires. "Her? Beat the Lord of the Fires? Ha! I'll quadruple my sentence if she beats me. No mousemaid is going to beat me! Especially with that length of rope!"

Mariel's face turned red with anger. "I'll accept alright. I'll hit him from Hellgates to the world of the living." She started down the stone stairs, and kept going.

The Dark Forest Gates creaked open, and there stood Mariel, the mousemaid-warrrior.

Trentilis pulled from midair a huge sword, and held it at ready. He advanced.

Mariel, turned in a circle, slowly whirling her rope faster and faster in a protective shield-shape. Always, she kept the enemy in front of her.

Then, all at once, they charged.

---

Nauru was weighted down by grief. Here lie his fellow friend, dead. He couldn't believe it. All those happy moments, all that teasing, was gone. Forever. He just couldn't accept the fact. Garren was dead.

---

Nightsnow was depressed. After all of those lessons as a healer, she had lost a life. Surely no other healer had ever done this! But she already knew that there was no hope-Garren was truly dead.

---

Sky watched the three firgures from the shadows, and shook her head sadly. Nauru heart-broken, Nightsnow depressed, and Emerald…well….surprised. The ottermaid turned around, and went back to the cots to sit and wait for something to happen. She knew that something was coming. In about a minute or two.

---

_How could this happen?_ Emerald cried silently in her head. _Why now? Why?_ She walked over to the still body silently, and laid the stalks of the healing herb onto Garren's chest, unnoticed by Nauru and Nightsnow in their states of grief

_We needed a miracle to happen._ She thought.

Right after that, a bluebird, of midnight color, flew into the tent.

---

"What news of the troops, commander?" the fox warlord walked impatiently back and forth along the smoothly woven grass rug, fresh from the plains, the black fur along his ruff bristling. The signing rat, or the commander, gulped and relayed his report.

"The soldiers are restless, and want to fight. They are disobeying more and more frequently. Wartbite was, more or less, the leader of a rebellious group determined to-er- _leave_ you in the gorge and attack something. More and more of the horde are turning sympathetic towards them, and half of the sympathizers are planning to _join_ the group. Master, we need to move, else you are-er- destroyed."

Oveline pawed the long, thin rapier that he was quite deadly with in battle. "Destroyed. Sounds very _interesting_, don't you say?"

The commander was surprised. Most of the time, his master would curse and jump out of the tent, searching for the problem. "I-I s-sup-ppose, sir."

"Now, I need a-" He paused, looking at the commander rat expectantly.

"Protector?" the rat ventured uneasily.

"Yes. Now, which beast would do nicely, Blackfang?"

"Neutral to both sides, sir."

"Jaggedtail?"

"In the group of traitors."

"Badeye?"

"Killed in the last fight in the camp."

Oveline stroked his brow, felling unnerved. No other beast was as good with a blade as these. But suddenly, in his mind, he saw a flash of reddish-gold.

He smiled, a smile full of sparkling white teeth, and asked, "What do you think of the slave?"

"Her? But she might turn on you!"

"I know that. But she needs me to survive, you know. Otherwise, every vermin in the camp will seek out her blood."

"True."

"Then it is decided. She shall be my-pretector."

Outside of the tent, a figure slunk off, to scale the vertical cliffs. It had a job to do.

---

"Rosilla! Cum 'ere!"

The pretty mousemaid sighed, and turned in the direction of the voice. That voice-her future husband.

"Cum 'ere!" Redlip repeated. And, ignoring Rosilla's protests, grabbed her arm, and drew her close.

Redlip was an ugly mouse. His dirty grey fur, made so by his disliking of baths set off a foul odor. Stained yellow teeth grinned at her, accompanied by ever-bleeding, slow trickles of red blood oozing from his bottom lip.

"Why are ye talken' to dat slave, Durie? Yer not sapposed t'." he reprimanded her.

Rosilla wanted to slug him so hard, and bust those teeth out of his mouth, but, according to rule #23, that of females being inferior to males, with the exception of a few fighting beasts that are female, and rule #24, that of the female's obeying every male's orders, with the exception of those who are either engaged or married, who had to obey only their engager or husband. Rule #2 also listed that females could not hit, bite, kick, or do any sort of thing that the males did. Of course with the exception of those fighting females. There were almost exceptions to every rule. So, she went along with the rules.

"I was only talking to her about her past."

"No! Ye mustn't dao that anyloonger, y'ear me?"

"But-"

"No buts!" he spat out. "Yer not sapposed t'go aigainst mah tellin's t'ya. Rue' numah tenny-'our."

"She's my-" Rosilla tried again, but Redlip cut her off.

"I don' care 'oo she is."

"Fine, then."

The ugly mouse grinned. "Say matter t'me."

Rosilla's eyes sparkled, though her future husband was too dim-witted to see it. "But what about Rule #57? 'Nobeast may have another call them 'master', unless that beast is a slave.' And I am not a slave, so therefore I can't call you master."

All Redlip could do was stare as his future wife walked away into the dunes, until she fell out of sight behind the next hill.

---

Rosilla ran all of the way, tracking her son and his gang. She loved to run, and felt her anger wash away with each pounding pawstep.

When the tracks stopped into a clearing, she ducked behind a dune, and waited for sounds of little beasts cheering at some ugly performance onebeast was putting up.

There was no sound.

---

A/N: Bad chapter, I know, but I couldn't help it. I needed to give you guys something to read and I am also in a trap. I need ideas! I need ideas! PLEASE! So that everything can flow again!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Long time no see.

Long time no read, either.

WELCOME BACK, READ, AND REVIEW!

Chapter 12:

A heaping pile of small, bloodied bodies of young mice were placed in the middle of the clearing, making Rosilla feel nauseas. She ran at the heap, an unbidden feeling rose in her throat.

On the top of the mound lay the body of her son-unmoving.

A cry of pain escaped from her mouth, long and mournful. As bad as her son was, Luker was still her kin and, of course, her son. Such a small child, a wasted life. She lay there, crying, grief wracking her body. _Why?_ She wailed in her mind. _Why HIM? Why not ME? Why? Why?_

This continued for a long time, and after about five minutes, she wiped the tears from her face, eyes red and puffy. She looked forlornly at the pile of youngsters. Why all of them? Wasted lives. That's all that they were now-wasted lives. Her paw clenched, she shook it at the sky, where the sun blazed there, mockingly, refusing to let out any secrets.

"I'll make you pay! By my own blood, I will. I will DESTROY those who killed my kin, my son, his friends. Those beasts will never be safe again. NEVER! My wrath will guide me, and, if I am killed while avenging him, my spirit will haunt them. But I WILL kill at least one. Or ALL. I will. I Will. I WILL!"

She heard footpaws approaching, and swerved around, away from the heap of wasted lives. Footpaws that were very unfamiliar to her memory, those pawsteps were, quick and rapid. Yet somehow they were familiar.

A sand-colored mousemaid rounded the corner, panting lightly. She looked surprised to see Rosilla, but covered it well.

The Juskablitht maid blurted out in astonish. "Why are you here? How did you get loose? Did somebeast let you loose? Who-"

Sandunal quickly silenced Rosilla with a quick movement to her muzzle. "Shhhh!" she whispered urgently. "There is no time. Your tribe will be after me, very, very soon. Now, where is Salamandastron?"

The mousemaid pointed in the direction of the great fire mountain. Sandunal nodded in agreement.

"As I thought. Come on, we'd better go now, before they catch up. That is," she shot a questioning look at her half-sister. "If you want to go with me. And you don't enslave me."

Rosilla looked horrified at the very thought. "Enslave you? No, thank you. I am no longer a Juskablitht, so I do not have to follow the rules."

Sandunal smiled, and beckoned with a paw to her sister. "Let's go find a boat, as well as some provisions. We need to eat, don't we?"

---

Mariel ducked as the keen, hellfire-heated blade swung, aiming at her neck. In one movement, she swung her Gullwhacker quickly, still bent, though Trentilis jumped back in time to avoid any injury from the heavy knot.

The two experienced warriors kept this up, striking, whirling, dodging, and lunging with all of their might. There was some paw-play, but little of it, as each opponent had no want for a wounded paw. They broke up after a while, and circled each other.

The mousemaid's eyes were slightly tinted red with the light of battle as they darted left and right with every movement that the wolverine made. Nothing escaped her hawk-like vision.

"So, micey, stopped to take a rest? Go back to your nursery!" Trentilis deliberately mispronounced the word 'mouse', intending to taunt the mousemaid warrior into recklessly attacking him.

Mariel, though, knew at least most of the tricks in the book.

Even though fire blazed in her veins with anger, she held beck, and retored. "Really? Go back to your death-bed, stinkbug!" She knew that it was a weak insult, but she was saving her best for last.

The wolverine growled, and the battle of insults rang on.

---

As the two warriors spat stinging sparks at each other, never letting their guard down all of the while, the onlookers looked on in amazement.

Methuselah, the old gatekeeper when Matthias wasn't yet a warrior, looked earnestly through huge scrolls of the Dark Forest's history, and, while all of the others were absorbed in the battle, remarked pointlessly.

"Never before, mark my words, never before has this happened. An insult tournament, strange indeed! And to think that Trentilis started this-quite unusual, you know. After he does one insult, he always stops. Especially when he was defeated by Fairon, the mousebabe."

Martin had caught the last bit. "What did you say, Methuselah?"

The old mouse began again. "Never before…."

"No, Methuselah, not the beginning, the end please." Martin begged. His thoughts, once again, whirled. Did Methuselah say _mousebabe_, or was he going deaf?

"….defeated by Fairon, the mousebabe." Methuselah ended. He crossed his arms, and good-naturedly glared at the legendary warrior. "Is that fine?"

"Yes, yes. Does it _really_ say 'mousebabe' in there? Everybeast told me that he was a young mouse, like me."

Methuselah shrugged, and handed a yellowing scroll to Martin. "Check for yourself."

Martin began to read.

_Excerpt from the Recordings of Bluebrook, Otter of the Dark Forest:_

_Oh, what a wonderful day! Now we are free of Trentilis, the White Tyrant. The council has banished him to the Ever-Burning Fires, after he recited the oath that now binds him, and there is a feast taking place. Unluckily, he shall only stay there for thirty-two moons, as the oath was not made before Fairon defeated him._

_Fairon, the winner, is a babe. Too bad that the Oath wasn't made before he defeated that Wolverine, else Trentilis would have stayed in there for a long time._

_For those reading this, the Dark Forest was only recently made, and we have not yet explored all of its' regions. The council will change over the moons, and will have different opinions of who goes into our realm, who goes to Trentilis, and who goes into the in-between regions. Sadly, Trentilis has poisoned the council member's minds about what they now call 'vermin', the stoats, weasels, ferrets, foxes, rats, and most of all, wolverines. The ones in the Dark Forest were sent with Trentilis into the Fires, and only a few of us were sad. I could not believe this! True, Trentilis was born evil, but that doesn't mean that _all_ of the others were horrid. Especially Thairsil, my friend, who was a beautiful silver ferret. Just because she was considered 'bad' or of the other kind, doesn't' mean that her intentions were evil! Hopfully, in the future, I may persuade the Council Members to let all good creature, not these so-called vermin, to be let in._

_That is why I take this time to write, not take part in this feast as many would wish me to. No other feast that celebrates the banishment of those forced out with Trentilis will I attend._

_For now, _

_Goodbye._

"So, Fairon was younger than me?"

"Yes, Martin. Many beasts want to believe that Fairon was a full-fledged warrior, not a small mousebabe, so from the beginning, after Fairon grew to the age that all beasts stay at, and became a hermit, somebeast thought up a rumor, and spread the word: Fairon was a young mouse, but an adult, when he defeated Trentilis. The nerve of somebeasts."

"Who was it, Methuselah?"

"Martin, I feel very strange talking to you in a way that an elder talks to a dibbun, if you know what I mean."

"Oh."

"Well, that beast, in my opinion, was a bad sort of hiding vermin. He, I think, was a rat, under the name 'Menith'."

"Mentih? Wait- was that?"

"Yes Martin. It was."

---

"Lilly livered lard bucket!"

"Mousebabe!"

"Newly naughty newt!"

"Weakling!"

"Slitherin' snake!"

"Grungy Ashflower!"

"Cursed corrupt cavebeast!"

"Thinling!"

"Ash-White!"

"Shrivled Jutin!"

"Poisonbones!"

Mariel was running out of ideas. Fast. Her insults were having no success on the wolverine, and didn't know half of his insults. Right then, she thought of the Traveling Noonvale thingamabob group. And the insult performance. _Sorry._ She thought.

"You're running out of ideas, aren't you?" Trentilis smirked. Mariel fumed with anger, and vented her fury out of her mouth.

"Lopsided lettuce leaf!"

"Huh?"

"Bucket bellied barrel bottomed beatle brained beast! Disgusting dirty dishwater! Greasy gullable grime! Rancid rat! Foul ferret! Stinkin' stoat! Furmenting Fox! Wringin' weasel! Hooligan! Wet Wolverine!"

That had only just come out of the blue.

But, Mariel didn't know a certain fact that would make Trentilis very, _very_ angry. Quite angry, in fact.

---

A nervous looking stoat edged into the tent where the slaves were sleeping. The special ones, and the cooks, anyhow.

He cleared his throat. "Khmm khmmm." One of the slaves got out of their cot, and stared at him. It was that white mouse. The pretty singer.

"What do you want?"

---

Nightsmow _hated_ making her voice all light and floaty, but this was one of those times. To gain time, anyhow.

"What do you want?" she twittered lightly, and winced on the inside. Oooooh, could she just _hurry up_?

The stoat smiled. "Nothing, dearie."

Nightsnow felt an unbidden felling rise, and desperately wanted her to come back. No, No NO!

"I have a message from his Lordness, though. For one of the slaves." He continued, and kept up his luring smile. "But if you-" Suddenly, a small kitchen knife was at his throat.

"What business have you here?" The low tone was menacing, and the stoat looked scared.

"A-a m-m-message f-f-" He stuttered.

"Never mind, I heard that part. For whom?"

"I-I am not allowed to say."

The figure lightly jumped down from the shelf where it had been perched. "Tell me," it silently drew another knife from the tray on a small table, "or else."

The stoat probably paled under his brown, blotchy fur. "Th-th-the sq-squirrel m-must go t-to his l-l-lordn-ness."

"Why didn't you say before in the first place?" The voice sounded agitated, and Nightsnow was on the verge of laughter. "Now go."

The stoat made a natural walk to the tent flap, and once he was out, Nightsnow heard quick-paced, pounding pawsteps.

"Did he hurt you?" The figure sounded concerned. Nightsnow replied in a teasing tone.

"Yes, I am, you great lump. So please, Emerald, take off the cloak and go to wherever you need to go. Without," the mousemaid's eyes glanced at the kitchen knives held tightly in her friends' paws. "the blades."

"Fine." Emerald sighed and took off the cloak, after releasing the kitchen blades onto the earthy ground. "Off I go, then."

With a leap and a bound, she leapt out of the tent

---

Emerald walked into the elaborately decorated tent, once again taking in her surroundings. There was quite a bit of gold, red and black, many dyed feathers hanging from the tent ceiling, and it looked as if he had changed his décor. Or the slaves did, anyhow.

Slave. How she hated that word, the one that held so much misery, hurt, and death in it's short embrace. A word that caused grief, anguish, and despair. Slave.

"Good, good. You are here." The voice, coming from the shadows sounded sinister, but only for the fact that its' creator was cloaked in a natural black embrace.

"Yes. A messenger came to tell me that you requested my presence."

"Please sit down. But the what he said was true, miss." The night-black fox clapped a few times, and, as if by magic, a group of many slaves appeared.

Two were hauling in a table, and Emerald recognized her fellow marching slaves. A fury rose within her, one that was well recognized. An old companion. _Not yet_, she whispered. _Not just yet._

The rest of the company came laden with a large, roasted pike, of which many vermin had died to catch, sitting on a plate of an assortment of herbs, dishes, and a bottle of pure wine.

The warlord gestured something to a very old mouse, one that Emerald did not recognize, and at that, the slaves left with the exception of the grey-haired elder.

He was obviously a server, and was absolutely silent throughout the entire event. When the fish was placed at the vermin's place-setting, he daintily picked up a fork forged out of silver, and cut into the tender meat of the fish.

_He has good table manners_, the squirrelmaid admitted in her head, _for a vermin, anyhow._

"Squirrel, I have a proposition to make to you."

"My name is Emerald."

"Fine. But, listen to me."

"Listening." Emerald was telling that she was aggravating Oveline, and smiled. On the inside of course; even she didn't want to go too far.

He continued while she was silent.

"I want you to be my-"he stopped, searching for a good word. "guard."

"WHAT!"

---

Sandunal became aware of footpaws stalking them, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw glimpses of matted, dirty brown fur ducking behind hills of sand. After a while of hide-and-seek, she whispered to her half sister.

"Somebeast following us. One at the least." Rosilla gave a slight nod, barely noticeable. She looked scared.

They continued to walk over miles and miles of endless desert, getting thirstier by the minute.

But then a welcoming sight appeared.

"Salamandastron!" cried Rosilla. Sandunal began to run alongside her sister. She felt free, like a falcon coasting the thermals in the humid air.

And then darkness came upon them, causing the image of the fire mountain to quiver and fall. Hope seemed lost.

---

A/N: Short chapter, I know. Very, VERY short, but I had a burst! I had a wave pass over me, and, this chapter is also short because I felt that my readers deserved something after about a month.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: sorry it took so long, but I TRIED to make it better than 12.

Now READ and REVIEW!

Chapter 13:

Merricks' clear voice filled the high-ceilinged Hall. "I know, as all of you should, trouble is coming. And I know, at least that 'when summer reigns again' is when summer starts, 'blood red walls' is Redwall Abbey, 'the army will run-"

Ffindle interrupted him. "The army will run' is a large horde of some sort of creatures, mos' likely vermin." He quailed under the smoldering look of the Friar, who was in a bad mood. Sandunal gone, being woken up way too early, Ffindle being right, and for the Abbot for believing him made him crankier than ever.

Determined to impress the Abbot, he yelled at Ffindle. "How dare you interrupt the Abbot! How dare you!" Gasps of shock filled the Great Hall. Thune rarely ever did that. Rarely did the shrew do that. Almost never!

The Abbot continued. "As Ffindle said, the 'army' is probably a horde, and I have yet one more translate to make. 'When seed cases fall' is in the Autumn. Seed cases are fruit, as the old Abbess Song wrote down. And when fruit fall, it is usually in the Fall. And," he looked sternly at Friar Thune. "I have no need for you to yell at a fellow hare like that." His gaze softened, as he saw the nearly black rings of exhaustion around the Friars' twitching eyes. "I see that you need sleep. As all of you probably do. The only thing that I ask you to do," he smiled. "Is sleep on these two riddles." Merrick clapped his hands. "Now-to sleep!" he got out of the large Abbots' chair, and, as if that was the signal, everybeast hurriedly started their daily journey to a mountain of blankets. Chairs scraped along the ground, pawsteps echoed in the air, and, the loudest of all, were the voices.

And, later, in the quiet of the night, a small sparrow, a mixture of black, brown, and cream plumage, swooped into the bell tower.

---

Nauru was dreaming.

He floated on a big, white fluffy cloud, at peace, when the- the _things_ started to happen.

_FLASH!_

There were two groggy mice in a cave, where menacing shadows lurked. Before he could do anything, though-

_FLASH!_

A circle, with two figures within it , fighting. A wall, with many figures on it. He thought that he could hear the clash of metal, and the rustling of parchment.

_FLASH!_

A mouse in bed, snoring. Tall red walls, rising from the ground, bricks of giant sandstone.

_FLASH!_

A pile of what looked like corpses, casting a long shadow over a sea of dunes against the setting sun.

_FLASH!_

A shadowy form, running from a brightly lit entrance. It ran with a familiarity he couldn't pinpoint at the monment.

_FLASH!_

And then a voice.

**_NAURU, YOU ARE A SUPPORT. DO NOT FAIL AT IT, SON DO NOT, OR THE WORLD WILL FALL INTO CHAOS._**

_Father?_

_**YES, NAURU. PROTECT THE WARRIOR OF WHOM IS NEEDED AT THE TWIN BLOOD WALLS.**_

****And then another voice, softer than this.

**_NAURU, MY SON. PROTECT HER-EVEN IF YOU HAVE TO DIE, FOR OTHERWISE, A GOOD VERMIN TURNED BAD WILL TAKE OVER ALL, AND HOPE SHALL LOSE ITS' GRASP ON THE WORLD. HAVE THE WARRIOR TELL YOU THEIR LIFE-THE WHOLE STORY, AFTER YOU WERE TAKEN._**

_Mother? Father?_

_**WE MUST GO NOW, SON. GOODBYE.**_

****Again, before he could do anything, the voices disappeared, and he felt the sensation of falling from his once-peaceful cloud, into dark, dark images.

_FLASH!_

A ruin of red sandstone, with eerie skeletal forms all over the place, swords rusting, bows rotting, and sheaths molding. A threadbare tapestry, faded by the sun, looked up at him with pleading eyes.

_FLASH!_

The mighty mountain Salamandastron smoking, a large pen built right outside of it, where thin creatures of all species dragged chains, and being herded by vermin with whips.

Now Nauru understood.

This is what it would be like if something didn't happen, something didn't stand in the way of this force of destruction.

And with that, he hit the ground.

---

Emerald's mouth gaped open. "Me? Body guard?" she spluttered. That could _not_ be true.

"Yes. You, Emerald, are going to be my body guard." Oveline sighed. "Believe it or not, I have many enemies amongst my horde. So I need somebeast reliable, good with a blade, and somebeast that is not well known." The black fox smiled. "And you were the one that came first to mind, and probably the only one that is both good with the blade and not well known. Though I don't know about reliable. Yet." He waited patiently for the slave's answer.

Emerald let the truth sink in. Yes, it was the truth, just, well, _strange_. She had never heard this from anybeast, let alone a vermin. Strange.

And the lightbulb came on.

_Reliable_. That's what he wants. Somebeast reliable. Emerald reasoned with herself. _Well, I _will_ be reliable. But only until a certain time, or if he does something very, _very _rash. Like kill one of my friends, or my brother._

"Alright." She heard herself saying out loud. "I will, but I might stop if you do something that I don't like."

To her surprise, the Lord of the Diabo laughed out loud. "Don't worry. I will not kill you brother, or any of your friends. That is too much for me to do, for I would lose a slave _and _a body guard in the same day."

"You are excused."

---

Nauru woke staring into the eyes of some creature. He yelped in surprise, jumped back, and woke Sky.

"Ouch!" she cried, banging her head on the floor. She tried to get up by doing a somersault in the air, but only succeeded in rousing Nightsnow as well.

"What's gonin' on?" the mouse murmured drowsily, looking at her surroundings dizzily. Her gaze focused on the culprit who had taken away all of their happy dreams.

"Emerald!" she groaned.

The squirrelmaiden sighed. "I only meant to get Nauru up." Immediately she regretted saying that.

"What were you going to talk to him about, Emera?" Sky demanded. "And what were you not going to tell us?"

"That-that-"

Nightsnow interrupted her friends' stuttering voice. "Did it have to do with that messenger calling you to the Warlord?"

"Yes."

"What was it then?"

Emerald took a deep breath. "It'll be a shock, that's for sure. It sure shocked me." She let the sentence hang on purpose, wanting the others to talk before she announced her secret.

"Tell us afore I fall asleep of boredom." Sky pretended to yawn sleepily, and received a glare from the white squirrel.

"Fine. I have been appointed to the position of-" The others cut her off.

"Dish-washer?"

"Table-setter?"

"Builder?"

"Cook?"

"Low slave?"

"Personal servant of the Warlord?"

"Hor-"

"I'm his body guard."

There was a shocked silence. But then, Nauru, Nightsnow, and Sky broke the eerie quiet air with the same sentence.

"WHY?"

She shrugged. "All he said was that I was the only beast right here that was good with a blade, not well known, and was reliable-but then only under certain terms." She grimaced, and continued. "And that I was the first to come to mind with pretty much all of those qualities."

They continued to stare at her, openmouthed. Until, that is, that Sky started to pretend to snore.

And then they laughed. A rare, beautiful sound, accompanied by the sound of labored breathing.

---

Trentilis's mind swirled with banished memories showing their faces again.

_FLASH!_

_A large group of near-adult mice, otters, and the like laughing at the small, undersized wolverine, who was huddled next to his mother._

_"You! Midget! You'll stay a runt forever, growing at that pace!" One called after the wolverine, laughing creuly._

_Tears welled in the white creature's eyes as he stumbled along after his mother, not wanting him to be teased in that way, so taking her son away._

_"Rut!"_

_"Baby!"_

_"I bet he relieves himself in his bed all of the time, causing his stink!"_

_"Yeah! You're probably right!"_

_"Wet Wolverine!"_

_They called after him, laughing and making unkind jokes about the, for now, small wolverine._

_FLASH!_

Trentilis's mind went back into the present, and he glared at the mousemaid in front of him, who had just called him that. Now he remembered his weakness when he was young, he felt angry at the ones who had drove him to madness. And the mousemaid.

He then roared an unearthly growl of rage, and charged blindly at his opponent, the one who brought back those horrible, awful memeories.

---

Mariel dodged just in time, saving herself from the whistling blade as its' bearer tried to use it to cleave her in half. Her rope, not the Gullwhacker, had the edge of the leftover rope dangling from the heavy knot shaved off, causing many strands of the hemp to curl, in an attempt to save themselves.

Right now, all the Bellmaker's daughter could do was defend herself my dodging, ducking, and avoiding the keen, fire-heated hunk of beautifully forged metal. Though right now, it looked more deadly than beautiful.

And then, it happened.

As if in slow motion, the silver light reflected a warning. She dropped and rolled to the side-

But her Gullwhacker was in the way of the blade continuing its' flight down to stick its' silver tip in the sandy ground, in the process biting deep into the length of thick, knotted cord, carving it in half.

Mariel felt an unbidden fury rise within her, as powerful as a raging storm in its' full height. The warrior unleashed itself from within her chest, bellowing in furor. And the red, once only rimming her vision before had enveloped her eyes on a sea of blood-like color.

The bloodwrath was upon Mariel.

---

Sandunal woke to a pounding headache, along with an agonizing pain throbbing in her limbs, a fire lashing through her body. Wincing, she tried to raise a paw to her head to make an attempt to stop the pain, only to find that she was bound in rope.

She caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure, standing up, a spear in paw. It wasn't tethered to a rock.

This was all that she needed to know that they were prisoners of some sort. Definitely NOT a good position to be in.

The mouse heard a small, low groan to her right, and something beginning to stir beside the mousemaid. Then a little voice sounded in slurred speech.

"Whaz goin' aun? Whur are we?" the sound of it made Sandunal want to cry, alone and unaccompanied in the darkness. She hated this place already.

"Shhhhhhhh, Rosilla, shhhhhhh. It's alright." She whispered softly, meaning to sooth her younger sister. But her voice just got her even more agitated.

"Sandunal? Sandunal? Where are you? Everything is so dark in here, I can't see a thing." There was a pause, and then she the ex-Juskablitht mousemaid continued. "Though there is a little bit of light. It's blurry, however."

Again, the Redwall recorder felt like crying.

Her sister was almost blind.

---

The four beasts whipped around in surprise, startled. Heavy breathing? From whom? That's when their eyes drifted toward the body of Garren moved slightly, just slightly.

"Garren!" Nauru cried out. "Are you alright?"

The old mouse murmured something inaudible.

"Garren, is something wrong?" Nightsnow asked gently. This time, the old mouse's voice could be heard, but only barely.

"Get 'im! That's the way, Muriel!" Garren mumbled, then blinked, his voice rapsy.

"Oh. I'm not there anymore, am I? Lovely place probably; I didn't get passed the gates though."

"Tell us more, please."

"Oh, I died. And there was this mouse named……I dunno, Merthin or sumthin'. Right when 'e was about to test me, this wolverine came out 'o this hot fire, and 'e challenged somebeast to fight, so they brought out this mousemaid named Muriel or sumthin', I furget. Then, they start a' fightin', an' I go back. Fur only a while, though."

Nightsnow knew now. Garren was still dead, just that he had been removed for a little bit until the battle was done. When it was over-he would be gone from them. Forever.

---

Sandunal and Rosilla had been brought upstairs, vermin guards flanking them on all sides. The Redwaller mouse guided Rosilla, who was silent, understanding that enemies were all around.

Now, they were in front of a small, lithe rat, feasting, with horrendous table manners, on a seagull. He wiped his mouth on his paw, and addressed the guard nearby his table.

"Where did ye find 'em?" he gestured to the mice. The guard, also a rat, scratched his chin.

"A few miles away from that band o' mice."

"Was that one blind when ye found them? Or did ye 'it 'em too 'ard on th' 'eads?"

The guard looked sheepish. "Er-um-We's found er unblanded."

_You can see steam coming out of his ears,_ Sandunal thought in amusment. _Quite strange._

"You BLINDED her?" he spoke softly, dangerously.

"Er-yes, milord."

Slowly, the warlord stood, in the meantime quietly drawing a thin, gleaming dagger. The guard's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, beads of sweat erupting.

The warlord reached the guard. "Do you know what this is for, Gurkle?" the guard gulped.

"Y-y-yes, sir."

The leader of the ragtag group began to circle the other rat, dagger still in paw. "Then why?"

"T-t' k-k-k-k-k-k-kill me." The rat whimpered, and had trouble forcing the last word out.

"No, not yet. As much as I'd like to, I can't lose another soldier. But I will," he paused, enjoying the terror on his victim's face. "Give you a scar on the arm, and employ you as a slave for the rest of the week."

Utter horror bloomed on the unfortunate rat's face. "No. Please, I beg mercy. No. No!" his desperate pleas rose an octave higher and shriller as the warlord grabbed a hold of his arm.

"You have already committed two mistakes. This is your third. Three mistakes for a scar, nine for your life. You know the rules, Gurkle. You have been here long enough. You know that I will not," at that, he carved a thin, shallow slice, at a snail's pace, in the prey's arm, who immediately howled in pain. "tolerate ten mistakes from one soldier. Not while conquest is at paw."

The wailing went on for quite a while, until the warlord slammed his paw on the table. Immediately, two guards, both rat again, screeched to a halt in the room, and demonstrated a salute. They looked uncannily like someone that Sandunal had met just recently……………….

"Thintail, Surnolit, you know that I don't want you to do that." He sighed. "You see this 'un? 'E made three mistakes." He blanced at the pair of mice, and clapped his hands.

"Where to, Dobane?" one called out. He was the smaller of the two. Dobane acknowledged him with a swift, short nod.

"To the bird you found. Put them in with it, and, as soon as possible, get Jareth to heal the near-blind one. If she is blind, then the Prophecy will die. _Questi sono i due_. These are the two."

Quickly, they were led to the door, and Dobane was heard calling something out in a foreign language-

"_Abbia Jareth dire loro il prophecy, oppure non conosceranno che coso sta accendende affatto. Facciale dire loro. Mantengali vivi. _

"_La pace deve regno o tutte moriranno_."

---

A little while later, they were in a comfortable, though small, room in the company of a small, covered, wooden cage. Sandunal still pondered the strange words. _Abbia Jareth dire loro il prophecy oppure……_Jareth must mean some creature; she had heard the name mentioned by this….Dobane….before he decided to chant in some strange language. Prophecy was clear; the two languages probably used the same words sometimes. Those were the only two words that were clear.

Suddenly, there was a small clear chirp, and she saw Rosilla sit up straight in the soft lamplight.

"A bird." She whispered softly. "Sandunal, find that sound. It was a word, I'm sure."

Sandunal obeyed without a question; Rosilla had to have all the help possible. The chirp sounded yet again.

It had come from the cage.

Sandunal ripped the cloth covering off, and saw a small sparrow inside of it.

Her eyes twinkled, and she turned to her sister, who was right next to her. Sandunal spoke softly, stormy eyes catching a small hole with a bit of blue showing through the sandy walls.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

---

A/N: How was it? It was actually longer than the last one! Yippee!

Fourteenth page!

Please review.

By the way- how did you like my language change?

(smirks evilly)


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I don't like many of you.

Only Saberpaw.

And if you don't review, I'll stop updating! In order to avoid this, I MUST have two reviews for this chapter at LEAST.

Chapter 14:

"Bigga rabbitworm, wakeywakey upupup!" Ffindle groaned in his sleep, turning over in his warm covers.

"Whad d'ya wan?" his slurred speech only caused the creature a spurt of agitation, of which it used to rip the covers off.

"Verilyverily 'portant messyage froma sandymouseworm inna woodnest where held 'gainstwill."

"Who's th' 'sandy mouse?' "

"Issa sandymouseworm bynamea of Sandinuial."

"Sandunal!" Ffindle burst out of bed, causing the sparrow-for that is what it was-to launch off with a surprised chirp, followed by a steady chatter of curses.

"Rabbitworma stinkyworm! Nuthin' worsa-sapt for woodnest notmuch like! Sharalla Sharpinwing getta………."

The commotion brought Merrick into the room. "Ffindle, what is _that_?" he asked, pointing at the small cream/black/brown streak whizzing around, uttering shrill chirps, some words strung together.

"A sparrow, sir."

The Abbot looked surprised for a monment, and then murmured something inaudible.

"What's that y'say, wot?"

"_Until the fast talker comes_. That's the sparrow! The sparrow is the fast talker!" he cried out. "In the time of Matthias, when he was still young, Queen-oh, why didn't I pay better attention in dibbun history-I think it was Warbeak, was felled by an arrow, and she and Matthias, quite a while later, mind you, when he was prisoner of the Sparra king, King Bull or something became friends. The sparra were quite the quick talkers………"

Ffindle caught on immediately. The bird had talked rapidly, making it hard for the hare to follow it's words. _…the fast talker comes……_he was right! And most of all it came from Sandunal.

Sandunal. He sure missed those runs with her, and the pie-pinching that they sometimes did.

The Abbot's voice interrupted his thoughts. "We need to tell the abbey creatures about this at breakfast, you know. And," Merrick looked up at the slowing blur, and raised his voice. "Give our guest some food. I think he-or she- is hungry after a long, exhausting journey completed."

The blur screeched to a halt, as the bird stopped. "Wormfood?" it asked hopfully. Now Ffindle could see the outline of ribs against it's chest.

"Yes. You are quite welcome at breakfast, you know." Merrick evolved into the traditional Abbot again; plain, courteous, and hospitable. Not the excited elder that he was before. He turned to leave.

"Thankyou, mouseworm." Sharalla looked at him closely. "Isyou leadermouse?" Merrick jerked his head around quickly.

"You mean the Abbot? For Abbot I am."

The sparrow nodded it's head. "Yesa, yesa, thenyoube one I looklook for, wellasthe hareworm creature."

"Please share your message later. I must go alert Friar Thune. Hopefully, he will be in a good mood." With that, he turned and left.

Ffindle stared at the sparrow, then asked a question. "What gender are you? I'm not sure."

The sparrow trilled a call, and then answered. "Ibe female. Anyting elseyou wanto ask?"

He then asked the question that he had wanted to ask from almost the very beginning;

"Where is Sandunal?"

---

Martin was breathing heavy with exhaustion, from sending the mouse-Garren-to where he had died. Where his body lay. For there was almost not other choice. See, if Garren was struck down by the blade of Trentilis-he would be resigned to the Ever Burning Flames. By Mariel-Either to the In-Between regions or to the world of the living. As much as his friends would rejoice, he would be near-immortal. He would lose almost everything-he would not keep his youth. And he would have a life of never-ending pain and hopelessness. Unless killed by air.

That was nearly impossible, but if some deadly poison got into the atmosphere, he would die a painless death. Luckily.

Which was why he used the rarely-ever-used portal to put Garren back into the world of the living. And the portal could only be conjured by a council member with his/her Wall-Stone.

The Wall-Stone was a curious thing, changing colors every three seasons or so, for some odd, strange reason. It fit neatly inside of its' owners' paw, no matter what. These Wall-Stones, thought to be the stones in the Wall surrounding the Dark Forest, were found in a cave deep under the roots of the First Tree.

Somehow, for a reason nobeast could explain, the First Tree _knew _when a new council member had arrived, for, when Martin, and all the others came, there would be a stone of iridescent colors that could fit neatly inside of the owner's paws. And, stranger still, it would be right outside of the cave entrance.

Many of the younger council members said that there was no connection between the arrival of a council member and the making of the stone. But the Elders of the Council believed this to be so. Martin didn't know which one to believe.

True, when he had arrived, a smooth stone, like a pommel one, fit neatly inside of his paw clenched up.

But still; which one to believe? The younger group? Or the older one?

A roar of fury brought Martin back into reality. Blinking in alarm, he saw Mariel. There was something odd about her. Yet, it was familiar.

And then it hit him. For many times, he had been a victim to it. Many times, he had seen a victim to it.

The bloodwrath.

The curse of all warriors.

And of all warriors, feasting upon Mariel's energy.

Just what they needed.

Martin buried his head in both paws, but then put them back.

She would fight even fiercer than ever. Hopefully.

---

Mariel had no control over her actions. None whatsoever. She attacked blindly, Biting and clawing ruthlessly. Trentilis was surprised, and in the process, stumbled backward, whimpering softly. While doing so, a small dagger, about twice the size of one of his long, curling claws, dislodged itself from his fur where it was neatly tucked away.

The blade was painted white, and the hilt covered with his fur, as to hide it. An astonished silence filled both the arena and the audience watching.

Lord Brocktree stood. "Why did you have that? 'Tis against the rules to do so." He growled lowly.

Trentilis did not answer, and picked up the small dagger. He held it in the center of his paw, as if weighing it. And then, he grasped it between two paw-fingers and threw the dagger.

Straight at a certain warrior.

---

Rose, on the council, usually didn't interfere. But it was she who saw where the Wolverine's eyes had flickered a split second before he threw it, and she had seen where they were aimed.

She couldn't lose that beast.

No, she couldn't.

So Rose, quiet, yet perilous Rose, screamed at the target.

"MARTIN!"

He glanced up, the scream all-too familiar. His eyes, sharpened after seasons of being on the council and in the Dark Forest, saw the well launched missle.

Quickly, he dropped down on his stomach, avoiding the miniature dagger, and enabling him to see the scene happening below.

While everybeast was looking at him, Mariel included, Trentilis had advanced on her. And in one, swift movement, he grabbed her by the neck, and lifted her into the air.

His grip was so tight, that she couldn't utter a noise. Even though she could breath.

"Listen. You are coming down with me. I don't care if it's for a million seasons; you're coming down with me."

Martin saw it all.

He saw Mariel being throttled.

He saw everything.

He saw it.

And he yelled.

"TRENTILIS, PUT HER DOWN!" he roared at the wolverine. But eerily-strangly, and grimly, the wolverine smiled back

"I'm not, Warrior. I want her. I-" he stopped, and started to back into the ever-burning fires.

And stopped.

"You've won, Martin, though there are quite a few in my cells that mutter your name indignatly."

"Huh?"

"You've won. And Martin, if this mousemaid doesn't come with me, all is gone.

"I need her."

---

Nauru felt his hopes sink back into it's case deep within himself. Garren wasn't alive. He was just……temporarily back for some odd, strange reason.

He sighed. He should've known that it was too good to be true. Nothing this good could happen anymore-it was the life of a slave.

Yet that stupid, _stupid_ ember of hope still burned in his chest. He didn't know why. But then, two lines of a poem came back to him, written by his mother.

_Hope is found in warriors._

_Hope is found in slaves._

That was the reason. And then, foggy and dusty, another line came into view in his mind's eye;

_Without hope, there would be nothing._

Nauru knew then, after years of racking his mind for a reason that his hope bloomed, that that one line was the whole reason that hope was there.

---

Soon, when the sun began to climb out of bed to reign, only Emerald was awake, stone still, waiting patiently for the sun to take the reins of the chariot called time.

She always stayed up to see the sun set, or woke early to see the sun rise. She didn't know why.

The camp seemed peaceful, serene, and as the sun rose, she noticed that the air was a bit hotter than yesterday was.

Summer was coming.

One of them needed to esacape. While asleep, that…..voice came into a dream of swirling mist, saying;

**_ONE MUST FLEE,_**

_**FROM THE CAMP,**_

_**THE OTHERS STAY BEHIND.**_

_**WHEN SUMMER COMES AGAIN.**_

It was pretty clear, and short. Well, almost.

And a few hours later, when the sun had a full grasp on its throne, a messenger came into the tent, requesting her presence for the Lord of the Diablo.

She went.

And when she got there, she saw something that was quite strange.

It was-

---

A vixen had come into their prison, requesting at once to see Rosilla, or as she called her, the 'blind one'.

Sandunal supposed that this was 'Jareth'. After all, she was coming to see Rosilla. But when she asked her, the vixen just laughed.

"No, no, mi _madre_ be the one you sa lookin' for. She be _Jareth_. I be _Disiean_. _Madre _ tella me to goan see 'ow ba' it be. An' it be very, _very_ ba'."

After that, Disiean left them alone. Their only source of light was the small crack in the wall, which the sparrow named 'Sharalla Sharpinwing', who had escaped through that crack. There were lighted candles, though.

An older vixen came in, older than the first. She carried with her a small, wooden chest with a dagger for chopping up leaves, not all that sharp.

"_Che viene vedere il mouse cieco che Dobane mi ha trasmesso alla cura."_

Sandunal blinked. This was strange. Why was everybeast talking this way?

The vixen noticed her confusion, and switched to English.

"I am coming to see that blind mouse that Dobane had told me to cure."

"You mean Rosilla?"

"Yes."

The vixen got to work quickly, cutting up herbs and applying them to Rosilla's shut eyes.

"What is that prophecy that this Dobane mentioned?"

Quietly, the vixen murmured, "Not now. Later, when Blind One is awake."

Sandunal said no more.

---

A/N: Sorry that it was so short, but my sibling is sleeping downstairs and is complaining that he wants to go to sleep. And I just, in one day, wrote about six pages. SIX PAGES! There are nine pages in all.

BYE! And REVIEW!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N:Thank you, Saberpaw and Sorcha O' Reilly for reviewing, but if I don't get three reviews at least, No More Freedom. So, If you want 16, ask someone else to review. I would count Brocktree or Clouded Horizon as two each, if they continued reviewing. Also, I did two pages in one day, seven in another and two in the last, today. So please, review!  
Chapter 15:

The clamor of beasts dining filled the Hall, scraping plates with wooden spoons and licking lips hungrily. There was also the sound of Dibbuns being scolded for not using their spoons to eat their food, and scooping porridge into their mouths with their paws.

Ffindle sat, deep in thought as he absentmindedly swirled his first serving of porridge with strawberries and honey mixed in, even further blending the appetizing victuals together.

"What's wrong, Ffindle?"

He swiveled around to find Father Abbot staring off into space.

The hare sighed. "Nothin', really."

The Abbot met his gaze. "Ffindle, please tell me. I know that I'm not Sandunal, but I _want_ to help you."

"It's Sandunal, sir." He turned his head away as tears started to well up in his eyes. "I miss her. Terribly. Why did her mater 'ave to take _her_, of all beasts? Why no' you? Or me? Or even one o' the Dibbuns? Why _her_?"

There was the rustling of a habit, and the slight creaking of the old, well-preserved oak bench as Merrick sat down next to Ffindle.

"Life goes that way, and nobeast knows why. Mayhap there be an explanation in the Dark Forest, but we shall never know, or be able to spread the knowledge to ones still living.

"Many have sought an explanation for this, but all have failed. The late Abbes Germanine once remarked, 'The ways of life are unknown to us. It just _happens_.'"

There was an abrupt roar of laughter coming from the opposite end of the table. Merrick chuckled.

"It seems our friend is having some fun."

And indeed Sharalla was.

"Stoppit! Please, give me back my-"

The sparrow just chirped laughingly and held the Friar's sandal just out of reach. With amazing strength for a sparrow, she tossed the leather sandal up, and, just when the Friar almost had it, she interfered, catching the sandal and zooming up to a slightly higher level.

Ffindle watched in amusement as Sharalla played Dibbun in the Middle with only herself and Thune, his eyes following the sparrow's every movement as the let the sandal drop-and then retrieve it in midair.

Thune saw Merrick arriving. "Father!" His expression of utter horror jolted the audience to laugh when the Abbot replied.

"Go on, Sharalla."

"B-but Father-"

"Come now, Thune. It is quite amusing, you know. Would you not deprive your Father a bit of fun, now and then?"

The friar pouted. "But it's no fun when the amusement is focused on _me_!"

A voice called out from the back. "Exactly the point!"

There was another deafening roar of laughter, as Thune angrily looked for the voice. While searching, his eyes fell on the grinning Ffindle.

The crowd laughed even harder while the Friar got redder with anger. The red deepened into an enraged purple as the got even more enraged.

"Ffindle!" he roared. "Did you bring this……_bird_……into the abbey?"

"No, I didn't. Th' jolly sparrow came in on'y this mornin' wi' no 'elp from me, sirrah!"

Right then, Sharalla dropped the sandal on the unsuspecting head of Friar Thune. Immediately, he rounded on the bird.

"Why you………" he let out a string of curses, luckily covered by the deafening sound of laughter.

"Friarmouse hava verily verily badtalk. Nottalk likathat when hatchlings all'round. Nonono, thata shouldn't happen, else th'hatchlings will talkatalk likathat alla time." She scolded the fuming Friar playfully, watching in delight as he got even more heated up.

"Sharalla, would you like to eat now? Or would you like to tell the message that you have brought?" The Abbot interfered, his voice carrying a tint of a warning.

Sharalla took the hint. "Ia lika eat wormfood first-then tella mousemessage."

"Fine by me. Take whatever you want from the table."

The sparrow flew off into the crowd of hungry beasts, twittering excitedly as, much to the Dibbun's dismay, ate most of the assorted fruit, some of which were preserved in honey.

And, a while before midday, Sharalla flew up to the Abbot.

"I'm ready."

A different voice.

---

"Rosilla, wake up!"

The voice came out of a mist of dreams, and Rosilla was inclined to push them away. She didn't though, recognizing the voice.

"Come, now, we must see if it worked!"

We? Who was we? Sandunal, for sure. But who else?

"Please, Rosilla. If you don't open your eyes, they'll be closed forever!"

That did it. Rosilla was blind enough-she certainly didn't want to be fully blind! Slowly, if painfully, she inched her eyes open.

It was dark.

She sobbed loudly, and opened her eyes fully.

Suddenly, a light flared, a candle. Rosilla could see every detail, the layers of the flame waving in a soft breeze she couldn't really feel. The wax, a beautiful red, melted slowly, and ran quietly down the stick.

And she saw Sandunal.

Suddenly, she looked different, and Rosilla noticed, if she strained her eyes, a single hair. She saw her grey eyes, and saw that they weren't only grey, that they had a slight blue tint to them. They were filled with relief, and a tiredness that she had never noticed before.

And there was a vixen.

She was an orange-red color, with white fur at the end of her tail. There were, though, streaks of faint grey running through her fur, signs of old age. Her eyes, a blueish-green, held a hint of pride and, surprisingly, kindness.

Rosilla felt safe with them.

"How are your eyes?" the vixen questioned.

"Quite good."

"How?"

"I can see things that I have never seen before. So many details, that I haven't been able to see in the past."

The vixen's eyes turned troubled. "I must have used too many herbs. If I had used what I had originally planned on using…..she would be able to see through any thing."

"Now what was that prophecy?" Sandunal questioned.

"Maybe I let Dobane tell you…."

They glared at her.

She shrugged. "Dobane, I tell him to use his proper voice. Yes?"

Sandunal shook her head. "You promised to tell us, as you said, 'Not now. _Later, when Blind One is awake_.' You said that you would, Jareth."

The vixen sighed. "Very well. I shall do my best to translate this from the _Nursto _ to _Speech_. That is what we call the language that mostbeasts talk in."

She took a deep breath.

"There be two come,

There be two bold,

They come, they fight, they lead.

They lead us to a hidden peace,

With the ones called 'goodbeasts'.

The slaves we wrought,

The ones we stole,

Will chose to go or leave.

And we, hidden,

Shall help our friends,

In their greatest need.

One is the sand,

One is the rose,

Both female, yes, both are.

One sends message,

To friends in red,

By way of wing kept in cage.

Who comes to rescue them.

One is Perilous,

One is Leader,

And they will help both kinds.

Pay heed to this,

Warning I make-

If Rose or Sand

Gets hurt at all,

And is not fixed in time,

All is lost,

All is gone,

And all shall fall in chaos."

Amd then, there was silence.

---

-that Oveline was not there.

Immediately, Emerald shoved a paw into her tunic, and withdrawing a sharp stone dagger.

There was too much silence. Too much silence.

All at once, she remembered the messenger.

His eyes…..what was wrong with his eyes?

She stood stock still, ready for the slightest sound or the quickest movement of something in the darkened tent.

After a while in the tent, it struck her like lightning.

Those eyes, they held a sneaking look, and once she had gotten up, a look of triumph.

Ambush.

Now, her eyes accustomed to the dark, she could see three dark figures, bow drawn back with an arrow notched into them, aimed straight at her. Another figure stood behind the table, concealed by the dark tablecloths, black colored.

In his paw, something slowly went up.

A sword.

Emerald relaxed, recognizing the signal to aim at a target. She needed her muscles ready to drop down and roll the moment his arm went down.

Her eyes looked as though they were watching the whole room, but they were focused on the leader of the ambushers.

His arm twitched downward.

Emerald dropped to the floor, rolling swiftly to the right while three arrows whizzed through thin air, aimed at her chest and head.

The figure was charging, and the bowbeasts laid their bows and quivers down, drawing knives.

They charged along with the leader.

Emerald stood, unhurried. She waited until they were almost upon her, and then flipped over their astonished heads. She had not the skill to compete with Sky's, but she was skilled enough to save herself from their blades.

She landed heavily on both paws, calling out.

"A-ON! A-ON!"

Ambush Occuring Now.

A reply sounded, three voices mingled together.

"C! C!"

Coming.

"Hellgates!" The leader cursed softly. "Kill her! Afore the others arrive!"

The vermin advanced, weapons held in front of them. But they forgot to do a few things.

They didn't go fast enough, forgetting their haste.

And they forgot to watch their back.

"AYA! GET 'WAY FROM 'ER!"

A white figure ran in, a…._borrowed_….knife held in front of him, ramming it into one of the bowbeasts.

The ambushers turned abruptly, their numbers put to three, and while doing so, Emerald stabbed one in the base of the neck.

Confused, the other bowbeast turned, only to fall dead, victim to a thrown stone, lobbed by an acrobat's skill.

"Get out o me way!" the leader growled. He tried to stick his sword into Nauru's belly, but the feel of cold stone at his neck stopped him.

"I don't think so." Like the stone, the voice was cold and unforgiving. Like the coward he was, he whined in protest.

"But I on'y want to ge' away from 'ere. I promise never to do thi' again, i' ye le' me go."

"As if!" Sky's voice suddenly materialized through the air. "I know the acts of most o' your kind. Whine your way through a problem, promising something, and then stabbing them in the back."

The vermin's eyes rolled wildly, as he came up with an answer. "Umm….Errr….. Well, I um…….Am not the kind of……beast that would…..umm……do that!"

All at once, Nightsnow appeared, hearing the whole incident. "And would an honest beast try to ambush and kill a beast? Would they?" she spoke softly, and in a way that no other had heard her speak in. Emerald couldn't believe her eyes. Were the mousemaid's eyes tinged with red, or was it just herself?

Quite unwisely, the vermin guffawed. "Micey, I woul' sugges' tha' ye stay out o' thi', else I migh' break out o' their grips."

"If you do, I might be forced to fight you."

"Ha! Me, defe'ed b' a mousey? Ha!" He sneered at Nightsnow, whose eyes looked even redder than before.

With that, he pulled out of his captor's grip, and, with his sword, charged Nightsnow.

---

Mariel bit back tears as she was thrust into the Ever-Burning-Fires, along with the body of Trentilis. Why did he need her? All that he said was….

'_Listen. You're coming down with me. I don't care if it is for a million seasons; you're coming down with me.'_

But why?

Why her?

---

Martin roared out in anger as he watched, on his knees, unable to do anything, as Mariel and Trentilis dived into the Lava, Trentilis holding Mariel by the neck.

"Martin, calm down! We'll get her back, I promise!"

"Marin, matey, we may not get her back, but we'll try our very 'ardest to!"

"Martin," a smooth, calming voice above him whispered. He looked up. And there was Rose, looking down at him, a message in her eyes.

"Yes. I will."

Standing up, he looked over the council members. "In order to get Mariel back, we must find one who can help us. Mainly, we need Methuselah to come, for his far spread knowledge of the beasts currently living here. Will you go with me, Methuselah?"

"Of course, Martin."

"An' Matey, you ain't goin' anyplace without me!"

"Martin, if you _dare_ think of going somewhere without me, I will end it right now, right here!"

"And you'll need a blinkin' hare of some sorts, y'know."

"And Martin, I have to go along. I have to get on an adventure, like to old times."

"Fine! Methuselah, Gonff, Rose, Ballaw, and-"

"Burr, aye, oi be thinkin' that ye'll need a moler for thi' job!"

"Alright. Now-"

"And Boar."

"That is it! Methuselah, Gonff Rose, Ballaw, Felldoh, Dinny and Boar are coming. Nobeast else!"

"I am going to leave at dawn. Be ready, or else I will leave you behind."

As Martin left the council area, a score and a half of mousebabes appeared on the battle tramped ground.

---

A/N: Like it? It's longer than 14. Now review, **_OR ELSE_**!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: This sentance sums it all up, really, other than the fact that I was on vacation for a LONG time, the Dec.15-3 Jan, (power outage on the 14-?) and extra time needed to write this chapter-

**_I love Christmas and Flash Drives._**

**Chapter 16:**

Dobane had sent for them.

They went, escorted by a group of guards to his dining room, where they had first met the Warlord. Instead of dining, this time, he was waiting patiently in one of the chairs. At their arrival, he stood.

"Now, why aren't you in finer clothes? I though I gave orders for the guards to give you proper dining attire."

"We received none." As the lithe rat turned to face one of the guards to rant at him, Sandunal hurried on. "But that is because we asked them not to bring any."

"Still, I instructed him to give you finer outfits."

"Sir, he insisted that he do give us some, they were draped over his arm, but we refused, fearing for our old garments. In the end, we refused completely and closed the door on his nose, and locked it." Rosilla explained, revealing the truth. The rat's nose was purple-looking, confirming the explanation.

"Alright. But," he turned to the rat. "If you mess up, that will be your first. And the first mistake is a day as a slave."

The rat gulped.

"Now, I insist that you dress better. Please do so."

Sandunal shook her head. She already knew what he was going to do. "Sir, I like my robe, and would like to keep it."

He let out a nervous laugh. "You'll keep it. Just, change. Please."

Rosilla saw the worry in his eyes, along with the lie lingering there. No, he wasn't. And that was for sure. Most likely, he was going to burn them, as if they contained some sort of disease.

Her half-sister snorted in disbelief. "As if!"

"Come, now, you-"

"Nope! Not listening!"

"Please, m-"

"I told you, I'm not listening to your lies!"

The rat leader bristled. "Lies, y'call 'em?"

"Yup! They are the dirtiest, most s-"

Rosilla interrupted her sister, recognizing the vermin drawl coming out of Dobane's mouth. "Sir, they are lies. I can see it in your eyes."

The rat started, eyes widening. "But-but-how?"

"That, you shall never know, if you burn our garments."

There was silence as he contemplated this. Finally, he called to the bruised-nose guard.

"Soyen! Bring the garments that I had chosen from the closet. Hurry now! They will pick from the ones chosen already."

He glanced at them. "I will have a guard escort you to a new room, …..." He shot a questioning look at them, of which Rosilla answered at once.

"Rosi-" Sandunal cut her off.

"Don't!" she hissed. "You never know."

And then, the door creaked open.

"That's not Soyen." Dobane whispered.

A black, cloaked figure enveloped the open doorway, and a voice erupted from it. "No, it isn't. I'm here for them."

---

Nightsnow dodged quickly to the right, quicker than ever before. Her eyes blazed red, now rid of their once warm hazel color.

The rat crashed into a small bit of furniture just inside the entryway. Mercilessly, and quicker than lightning, Nightsnow launched herself onto his back, scratching and biting with a reckless fury. A dull, though wet, trickle of blood ran slowly out of his veins where the mousemaid's claws and teeth punctured the skin. The ambush leader screeched in pain, his sword flailing. The sharp slip of metal nicked Nightsnow's shoulder, but she kept on biting and scraping, her teeth now running red, and her claws doused in the other creatures blood.

Soon, the rat's struggles were faint, as his heart pumped the blood out of his body, and never received anything. But Nightsnow kept on scratching and biting. Nauru went to stop her, but Emerald held him back, an ice-cold gleam in her eyes, turning them as hard as green-colored stones.

"Don't. She is in the bloodwrath."

"The-no, no, it can't be. She is….well….quite gentle." Sky looked on, horror brimming in her eyes.

"No, it's not what you think. She is not a beast. In fact, she had probably hidden it for the most of her life. I mean, do you know the tales of Lord Sunflash?"

"A little."

"He had the bloodwrath, but wanted to cultivate the mountain, let things grow, and loved young ones. He was good-hearted, but with a sad background." Emerald paused. "Like another I have heard tales about. Yet, I do not know his name."

"Is he a mouse?" Sky was suddenly perked up, Nightsnow forgotten for the monment.

"Yes."

"A warrior of the old times."

"Yes."

"Martin." She breathed. "Have you had any dreams with a mouse in it?"

"No, not that I can remember."

"Oh."

"But there was this voice in my head."

"That is Martin." Sky looked back at Nightsnow, now curled up, blood staining her white coat, sobbing salt tears.

"No……stay away……I-I'll fight you!"

Nauru's gazed softened with tears. "She's lasped into memories."

They all stared on, unable to do anything but watch, as Nightsnow relived a nightmare.

---

She heard rustling sounds in the bushes. Nightsnow jumped up, overjoyed. Maybe Sandunal was coming back!  
"Mama! Dada! Sanduna' cumma back, mebbe!"

Her mother sounded surprised, and then scared. "Sandunal, coming back? Wel- Wait. NIGHTSNOW! GET BACK HERE!" she screamed. Nightsnow didn't know why her mother was so afraid.

But it was too late.

A stoat emerged from the bushes, leering. Nightsnow thought that it was a smile, being as young as she was.

"Hewwo!"

" 'ello, li'lle missy. Ware be yer fami'y?" he changed his smile, and, though Nightsnow didn't realize it at the time, he made it look more…….inviting.

"I dunno 'xacty where, bu' y'wanna play wi' me?" She beamed up at him, smiling happily.

"Alrigh', then. C'n I call in m' other play'ates?"

Her mind raced. More friends? Oh, so much fun! "Shur!"

"NIGHTSNOW!" her mother called franticly, charging down the small slope. "GET AWAY FROM 'IM!"

"Bu' wai, Mama? 'E's m'fran!"

The stoat suddenly whistled, crying out. "Krinkpaw! Lardtooth! An' th' res' o ye, cummere! I got meself a playmate!"

Her mother turned white in fear. "Nightsnow, get into the house!"

"Bu-"

"Now!" Her mother's tone was frightened, causing her to freeze in fear and confusion. What was wrong? It couldn't be her friend-he was her friend, for goodness sake!

Suddenly, the bushes rustled, and a small group of vermin emerged from it's evergreen depths, tattoed and snarling, though it looked as though they were smiling to the toddler Nightsnow.

Before her mother could stop her, she cried out. "Moar Fwens!" At this, the vermin guffawed heavily.

" 'Er fren's! Wadya think o' tha', Lardtooth?" A rat with a whithered paw called out to a ferret nearby, one with a curiously black tooth.

"I think tha' she's gunna 'ave more fren's inna momen'!"

Nightsnow brightened up. "Moar!"

They stopped laughing. "She rea'y take's u' seriously, doan' she?"

"Goo' avantage, I say!"

The stoat knelt down to Nightsnow. "Y'wanna cum to ar place'n play?"

"Yeah!"

He grinned at Nightsnow's mother, who was looking down with fright. " 'er name's Nigh' snow, righ'?"

"I will not confirm anything that you say, vermin!"

"Well, tha' don' ma'er, cus wur gonna take 'er 'way t' play wi' us, an' you too!" He grinned, exposing yellowish teeth. Nightsnow was overjoyed. She looked up at her mother.

"Y'ear at? Weas gonsas pway!"

"No, Nightsnow, We're going to be made into slaves."

"Wuzzat?"

"Don' te' 'er aneting, mizzy!" the stoat warned her, drawing a rusty cutlass. At this, Nightsnow became scared.

"Mista sto', peas don' am mama!"

"O' cour' no', liddle 'un." Reluctantly, he stowed the cutlass into the sheath at his side. "I was jus' 'avin a bi' o' fun." Nightsnow calmed down.

"Don't."

"Huh?" Nightsnow turned around, the voice coming from her mother.

"Don't, Nightsnow. Don't believe him."

"Bu' waiy?"

Her mother raised her voice. "Because he's a lowdown, dirty beast, not deserving to have any friends at all, and certainly not my daughter!"

"Yer dead!" Roaring, the friendly look disappeared, replaced with a look of total wickedness. The stoat drew his cutlass, and swung it at Nightsnow's mother.

---

Martin shouldered his knapsack, full with supplies that he needed on this quest. Food, Water, a canteen of cordial, some rope, a knife, along with many other things. Strapped to his back was a replica of his sword, the blade forged by Boar when he was alive. He looked anxiously out the window.

To the east, the sky was lightening up, dimming the shining stars in the sky. Time to get Laterose up, or, Rose.

Sighing, he tip-pawed into Rose's room, and knelt by her bed. She looked so peaceful, lying there, asleep, but he knew that he could wait no longer to wake her up.

"Rose." He whispered. There was no answer from the sleeping mouse.

"Rose," he whispered louder, "It's time to get up."

"Go 'way." Rose mumbled, putting a pillow over her head.

"Rose, we need to go now."

She whined at him like a Dibbun. "Go where?"

Martin rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess if you don't want to get up, I'll just go meet our friends and go on the quest without you."

Rose sat up straight, her eyes wide. "What time is it?"

"Almost dawn."

"Gotta get movin'! Martin, help me pack!" She threw off the blankets, and rushed out of the doorway.

Suddenly, Rose was all over the place. Packing a small knapsack with dry, stable food, herbs for healing, a couple of canteens with cordial, and a few more with water. A tightly rolled large blanket with a small pillow were tied together with a length of rope, and shoved into her pack, along with the remaining rope.

Within a matter of minutes, she was done.

Martin stood there, gawking, as she closed the pack and, like Martin, shouldered it.

Rose turned, and saw him. "Well? What're you waiting for?"

---

Suddenly, Mariel could breath again. She took in a deep inhalation, only to find that the air was hot, and seemed like it was filled with sulfur. She choked, and nearly fell to the ground.

But a massive white paw caught her.

"I don't think that you want to fall." Came a voice, calm and steady, with a hint of amusement in it.

Mariel already knew who this was. "Why not?" she spat at him.

"Look down."

Obeying, she directed her eyes downward, and saw the 'ground'.

Molten lava, or, otherwise known as magma, swirled, as though it were a river, with melting strands of rock on top of it. Mariel staggered backwards, into the wolverine's body.

"Why have you brought me here?" she whispered savagely. "Why!"

"I will tell you later, but not now, not here. We must wait until we get inside of the Gates."

"Question."

"Yes?"

"How're we traveling to, I 'sume, 'Ellgates? I mean, we're on _sumthin_, righ'?"

Trentilis chuckled softly, unlike the usual vermin would. "On a boat made of a special lava-resistant stone."

"Invisible, I see." the sarcasm was clear in her voice.

"Clear, actually."

And, closer and closer, a large golden gate, with gold walls stretching from it. And, strangest of all, vermin in chains working to make sure that the walls and the gates stayed glossy.

"Welcome to Hellgates, Mariel."

And so it was, that Mariel came to Hellgates in the company of a large, white wolverine.

---

A/N: Is it okay? I know, it' pretty short, but I hope you guys like it!

For those of you who are wondering why I have a new 'seperator', that is really the original that I use on the actuall document. If there was any confusion, I am sorry for it.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N-Thank you, all! Short, because you want to read the story, right?

---

Chapter 17:

The sun gently peeked it's head out of the horizon's shade, and, seeing no danger, cautiously climbed into the sky of the Dark Forest.

Martin and Rose tip-toed past certain structures, careful to wake up nobeast from their pleasant slumber.

"Martin, did we _have_ to get up this early?" Rose enviously listened to one creature's exceptionally loud snoring.

"Yes. When on a quest, you always get up early to get as far as possible before the sun sets."

"You could've used your stone."

"Well, not all on the quest are on the Dark Forest's council, and I can't transport more than two beasts at a time, and the stone wears out easily. Besides, actually traveling by paw when on a quest is better; it reminds me of when I was alive."

"Well, I could always use my stone, Methuselah his, and Boar his. There are eight of us going on this quest, and four of use with stones. Each of the four could take one along with us."

"But that takes all of the fun out of it, Rose."

"Fine, then."

"Rose….."

"It's alright, Martin, I was only teasing you!"

Martin rolled his eyes. "You sure?"

"Of course I am!" Rose huffed playfully. They were now away from the village where they lived, and instead, in a small, tall-grassed clearing, where, on the horizon line, they could see the beginning of the a forest, one of many in the Dark Forest.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No,"

"Yes,"

"No,"

"Yes,"

"No, end of argument!" Martin took off running while Rose chased him through the yellow-green grass.

"I'll get you yet!" she whooped with joy, and gave a wild leap at him, missing. Martin laughed over his shoulder, feeling like a Dibbun again.

"No, you won't! I'm to fast!" he made a very childish face at Rose, who's eyes started to water with laughter.

"I'll -hahaha! -get you - hahehehehahe! -no- Hahahaha hehe! -matter- HaHeHaHeHaHaHa-what!" Rose managed to gasp out between outbreaks of laughter. She clutched her sides, and tears ran down her face as her body quivered in both silent laughter and hearable mirth.

"In that condition-khmph!-you won't!" Martin barely managed to hold back an outburst of laughter.

Rose grinned, her sides heaving, but her laugher wasn't all that overpowering anymore. "You sure?"

Martin rolled his eyes sarcasticly, and thought back to when he had asked Rose if she was sure.

He grinned. "Yes."

Rose understood what was going on, and grinned back at the warrior mouse. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, end of argument!" Laughing, like the wind softly chiming a field of bluebells, she skipped off, her eyes teasing Martin to come and try to catch her.

"You can't outrun me, Rose!"

"Oh, yes I can!"

"You really think so?"

"Yep!"

"Well, then, try!" Martin broke into a sudden dash for Rose.

"I will!" she was not caught unawares, and her footpaws beat across the ground. Yellow-green grass flew by as the mousemaid evaded Martin's grasp. Soon, though, the trees were larger, and she slowed down, hesitant to go inside of it. The woods looked dark; foreboding. Not like they were yesterday, when she had taken her daily walk in them, even though it had been a bit later in the morning. The sun was rising, almost fully in the sky, and even now, the forest looked as though a moonless night was occurring in there. A sudden chilly breeze occurred, even though it was considered 'Summer time' in the Dark Forest, causing Rose to shiver.

Martin jogged up beside her, breathing heavily, cheerful nature gone. He scanned the edge of the forest. "They should be here by now. I told them that this was the meeting place."

"Martin, I don't want to go in there." Rose sounded timid, frightened.

"Why not?"

"It doesn't seem right."

Martin studied the glade for a while, and took a deep breath. "Well, the only way to find out is to go in." Rose paled visibly.

"Martin, do you think that you could……"she trailed off.

"Yes, I could."

"Thank you." As Martin started to put one of his footpaws into the beginning of the forest undergrowth, Rose stopped him.

"Martin?"

"Yes?"

"If you don't come out by the time the sun is fully in the sky, I'm going in."

"Alright. But Rose, if anything goes wrong, I'll…….," he paused, thinking. "I'll cry…..something."

Rose nodded her head, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She was afraid to lose him again so early.

Martin had noticed. "Rose, you know that none can die in the Dark Forest."

"But still……I may not be able to see you again for countless seasons!"

"Rose, it's alright. I have to go in."

And with that, Martin stepped into the forest, and silently wove between vast, large trunks of ancient trees.

A little later, as the sun stepped fully into the sky, Rose, sitting on the edge of the large grove, heard a shout.

It was faint, fainter than the wind's low cry at that time, but she still heard it.

She heard two words, words that filled her heart to the brim with terror.

"VERMIN! BAAAAADDRRRRRAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNG!"

---

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MOMMY!" Nightsnow screamed in horror. Suddenly, her horror turned into anger, and her vision started to be rimmed with red. She didn't know what had overcome her, but she wasn't herself. She was somebeast else.

"Stop."

---

_That mouse is going to die!,_ Tyfrac thought as he raised his cutlass. The mouse looked at him with fear, combined with a hint of contempt. He prepared to plunge the sword tip into her ear, making the sword look as though it was pointed at her heart. She would make a good slave…….but the liddle 'un would be even better.

Time seemed to stop as he thought about the young'un. Now she was one he liked to break-all innocent, cheery, didn't know how the world was. Strangly, he felt a pang of pity, something that he normaly wouldn't feel. If this one was to grow up, thinking all beasts were friends, no matter if they were 'vermin' and 'woodlanders'………he shook his head mentally. _Get your head back into the job._ He chided himself.

He brought the sword down, and was almost piercing the mouse's ear, when a stone-cold voice halted him.

"Stop."

It sounded like a warrior, a full fledged woodland warrior, so much that he turned his head slowly, to see who it was. But what greeted his eyes was the little mousemaid, her eyes blazing with anger. And in her paws, she held a single, sharp dagger.

---

Nightsnow's mother looked at the dagger, and recognized it at once. It was her old vegetable knife-but it was still sharp. And, unlike Tyfrac, she saw a sight that chilled her blood.

A growing ring of red in her daughter's eyes, expanding slowly. The mousewife had heard tales of it-but she hadn't seen it.

Not until now.

---

Nightsnow felt so strange. So different. She felt as though she could take down all of these vermin single-pawed. She didn't feel innocent anymore. She felt like she had seen many seasons and felt love, pain, and hardships.

A voice echoed in her head. _Nightsnow, you are my descendant, now the case of my spirit. My brother is a great-grandfather of yours. My life, my love's life, and my brother's life are yours._

And then, the redness enveloped her completely.

As Mariel was, as Martin was, as many other mice of the past were, Nightsnow, a simple, young, dibbun-aged mousemaid, was under the full length of the Bloodwrath.

---

Murmurs of astonishment rang throughout the room. Sharalla Sharpinwing was not speaking like the normal sparrow would. A slightly cold breeze ran through the Hall as the sparrow continued, eyes sparkiling with knowlage that a sparrow wouldn't know. Sensing that this was an important message of some strange kind, Father Merrick held up a paw to silence all of the creatures. He nodded to Sharalla, and she continued.

"As you know, Martin the Warrior sent you a message through Ffindle. I did not believe in him. I did not believe that that was possible. But when I was caught, by rats-"

"Vermin." Muttered Ffindle, eyes starting to blaze with anger. The sparrow's cold stare silenced him.

"-a mouse in armor and swirling mists came to me in a dream. He said that two mousemaids would set me free, that the rats didn't know that this was important to _their_ prophecy, as well as two others. The one Ffindle was sent and the one the Abbot was sent. All three are extremely important to the survival of Redwall.

"He gave me a map of words, the way to the rat's camp. He said that I was to retell this to you, and wouldn't remember it-or be able to speak like a ground beast; an abbeydweller, until it was time. And when this is done, I will speak like myself again.

"Now, for the map. First, in order for you to _hear _the map, you must figure out whom are going. And what the riddle means."

"Great danger." A quiet voice at the back called. A small, shy squirrel had suddenly appeared. "A danger greater then anything else. But what it is, I can not tell you. For I have not an idea. But what I know is that if Redwall falls, the rest of Mossflower will fall into chaos. All will be slaves."

"And who might you be?" The Abbot kindly asked.

"Thistle, of Mossflower."

"Who are your parents? If that is not going too far, anyhow."

"No, sir, I am alright with the questions you ask me. Well, they're gone. Taken. Probably dead."

"Do you live with any grown beast?"

"No. I like by myself."

Something seemed familiar about the squirrel to the Abbot. "Have you lived in Redwall before?"

Those dark brown eyes turned towards him. "Yes."

---

The dark eyes glimmered, with secrets that no beast knew. Sandunal knew right away that this creature was out to destroy them, or force them into slavery. To make sure that a certain prophecy didn't come true. And she knew that she had to stop him.

"I am afraid that you may not have them. They are my guests."

"Dobane," the creature sighed. "You know that I have always not wanted you to make that prophecy reality. And you know that I need more slaves." His eyes surveyed the two mousemaids, not seeing the spark of defiance in their eyes. One pair stone cold, one a dark, burning black.

He didn't see the eyes connect either, both holding the same idea. Or the slight nod.

"Levirkad, I have plenty of slaves. These _aren't_ slaves."

"I know. But they would be perfect for what I want to go along with the new fortress that my slaves are building."

Dobane drew up his small, short body as high as he could. "No. Levirkad. I will not stand for you to take them. NO!"

The creature through back his hood, and dropped his paws to his side. Levirkad was a ferret.

---

Rosilla could see many details that she couldn't before. The ferret, Levirkad, for instance. There was little grime and salt on in his headfur, and it looked like he bathed often. His eyes were a deep chesnut brown, with yellow waves, twice as thin as thread, weaving their way through the brown. And his eyes were filled with malice, with unkindness-and a greedy look.

She also noticed what the other two creatures didn't. She noticed a paw straying, moving centimeter by centimeter, towards the inside of his cloak while talking to Dobane.

"Why no?"

"You know well enough why, Levirkad."

"Can't I just take them and go?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Well, what about……."

While they were bickering back and forth, Sandunal had seen Rosilla watching the ferret's paw attentively. And then, she too noticed the movement. The paw was slipping inside of the cloak.

Again, their eyes met. And, once more, they nodded.

They had a plan.

Use the silverware.

---

Emerald and her friends helped one another carry Nightsnow as gently as possible out of the large, captain's tent. By now, the sun was nearly in the sky, and periodically Nightsnow would murmur something and twitch.

It was when they set her in a cot that she howled out.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MOMMY!" suddenly, her limbs hardened, and she ruffled inside her tunic, though she brought out nothing.

"Stop."

Instantly, though, she murmured, and the three creatures behind her were unable to hear her.

"She sounds so young." Sky whispered.

"But when she said stop…….She sounded like a warrior, unafraid of anything. But she also sounded as though she was under what she was before." Nightsnow talked lowly. "Right Emerald? Right?" he turned around. Emerald wasn't there anymore.

He groaned, and thought, _Not again!_

---

Emerald looked at the rising sun, feeling it's warmth fill her body. Everybeast here, it seemed, had a tale to tell, a tale that they didn't _want_ to tell, but they ended up reliving at one point.

Even Emerald had that happen to her, three seasons after her parent's deaths. She had been struck with a club, and tied to a pole at one point. And until she had finished reliving the moment, which seemed scarier then before, she didn't wake up. Luckily, there was a rescue band of animals, looking for a squirrel named 'Thistle'. They had rescued her, even though they hadn't found Thistle yet. They invited her to stay at their Abbey with them, but she declined their offer. She had told them one fact-and only one. That she was out to avenge. That she was out to kill. That she was not going to rest her paws until she did.

Angrily, Emerald stamped a footpaw on the ground, causing dust to rise, a small, light-brown cloud of it. And here she was, resting her paws! Playing 'Let's be a slave that has nothing good to do except obey her master.' No. That wasn't what she wanted to do. But she couldn't. As she recalled, she wasn't the one who was supposed to escape. No. That was another beast.

Though she didn't know who it was. The message played again in her head.

**_ONE MUST FLEE,_**

_**FROM THE CAMP,**_

_**THE OTHERS STAY BEHIND.**_

_**WHEN SUMMER REIGNS AGAIN.**_

Emerald understood it now.

One of them had to escape to an unkown destination-unkown for now, anyhow. And the rest of them had to stay behind. And when was this all to happen?

In the summer.

Emerald thought. If it was late springtide now, and there were only two weeks 'till Summer began, they had two weeks to figure out some things.

1-Where the escaper was going to go.

2-Who the escaper was.

3-How they were going to get away with this.

4-And why one had to escape.

Emerald groaned. How they were going to figure this out, she didn't know. She started to walk, about to do the thing that calmed her nerves, and helped her think out something hard.

Time to cause some havoc amongst the vermin.

---

A/N-Sorry for taking so long to update it. I wasn't in the writing mood for _weeks_, and then I got into it. Yesterday, it was two pages long, when I began it. Last night, it was seven pages (well, really a bit more than six). Today- around twelve pages.

Review if you want to, but I would like it if you did.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry for the late update, but it _is_ almost 25 pages!

Chapter 18:

The Abbot felt as though the breath had left him. Thistle? Here? He remembered the squirrel as a babe, when he was still quite young. Many other creatures were staring at the squirrel, eyes wide with surprised.

And Merrick thought back……….

_**FLASH!!!**_

_A small squirrel waddled around, occasionally tripping over her own two feet. Each time though, she got up with a stubborn look on her face. She was a far ways from her mother, and Merrick knew that she shouldn't be._

"_Thistle!"_

_The squirrelbabe's head turned towards the voice. Thistle's mother, Bramble, was hurrying towards her._

"_Mama!" Crying out with delight, she toddled towards her mother, gurgling with laughter, brown eyes sparkling._

"_Thistle! Why were you out so far?"_

_Thistle only looked up at her with smiling eyes, and soon Bramble calmed down. "Never go that far away from Mama, alright?"_

"_Thure!"_

_**FLASH!!!**_

_Bramble went out of the walls of Redwall, and didn't return. No screams, no shouts, only silence. Thorn, her husband, went out looking with her, armed with a few javelins. He never returned, either._

_Thistle was all that remained. Merrick heard her, all the time asking the same questions. "Where Mama? Where Dada?"_

_She never got any answers, as the older beasts thought it was better not to tell her. But soon, Merrick got angry with them, and, when Thistle asked him one morn, he answered her._

"_Where Mama? Where Dada?"_

"_Somewhere. We don't know. They disappeared."_

"_Bu' why?"_

_He sighed. "I don't know. I don't know."_

"_Where last seen?"_

"_Outside Redwall's gates."_

_The next day, she was gone._

_They sent out a search party, armed to the teeth with weapons. They returned, unsuccessful. But they did have some information. They had found a band of vermin, with a squirrel captive. She had a horrible looking bump on the head, and was tied to the pole. She was young, and looked tired. They had rescued her, and offered her a place to stay at Redwall. But she declined._

_Merrick heard her exact words, as one of the party recited them._

"_I am sorry, but I must decline your offer. For I am out to avenge. I am out to kill. And I am not going to rest my paws until I do!" Her eyes, they said, had a flame in them, emerald and filled with a mixture of emotions. Grief, anger, hatred, sadness, and stubbornness filled the green orbs, and, one look at them told them many things. She, as young as she was, had experienced something awful, and wasn't going to stop until she had her revenge._

_They had given her some of their supplies, and a small dagger. She took them without a word. And, come the next morning, she was gone, but she had left one thing- a small chip off an emerald. They had no clue of what that meant. And they had forgotten to ask her name._

_And there was no doubt-They would probably never find Thistle again._

_**FLASH!!!**_

The Abbot staggered a couple of steps foreward, and held his head. The Infirmary Sister, Amiel, caught him before he fell.

"Thistle?" he whispered weakly, but loud enough for the squirrelmaid to hear.

Her eyes bored into him. "How would you know me? All you know is my name, of which I told to you."

"I…..I….don't you remember me?" His voice was croaky with disbelief. Before Thistle could answer though, Sister Amiel cut in.

"The Abbot needs some rest from the shock. I am sorry, but he must go."

Sharalla spoke up. "We need to finish this."

"The Abbot is not well!" Amiel was nice enough, but was very severe with her patients and their health. She put the Abbot down in a chair, and fumbled with the pouch at her side.

"I have little time."

Amiel cursed under her breath, not finding what she was looking for. "THE ABBOT IS NOT WELL!!"

"I repeat, I have little time, and this information is vital for Mossflower, Redwall, and all woodlanders everywhere."

"THE ABBOT IS-" The Sister was near the stairs, ready to get some herbs.

"Amiel, we must finish this meeting!" Merrick shouted. Amiel stopped, uncertain. The Abbot continued, softer this time.

"If we want Sandunal back, we must listen to Sharalla before time runs out."

Silence once again greeted the Hall.

"Alright." Amiel whispered. She returned to her seat.

"Thank you, Abbot." Sharalla dipped her lovely crested head in thanks. "I shall help you make your riddle clear."

" 'Do not catch the Sand, Do not go a-searching'. Obviously, that means you don't go looking for this Sandunal.

"'Until the fast-talker comes.' That is me, but you can't go yet. 'The perilous and leader, will follow the instructions' means that whoever is going is going to need my instructions, of which I will give you along the journey.

" 'Perilous, Leader, Sand, and others, will arrive after the sky.' So, the two who go will come back with company, and this 'Sandunal', after the 'sky'.

" 'Preperations made, Warriors on parade, To defend the Red, Red walls.' is probably getting ready for war, and training for it, to defend Redwall, hence the 'Red, Red walls'.

"And, of course, I think that the Abbot has told you of this riddle already." Sharalla turned to the Abbot, who had fully regained his health. "But I am curious. How does it go?"

Taking a deep breath, the Abbot recited it, although it was getting to the boring point.

"A slave to the south, high as sky,

Will come to blood red walls.

Grave news she shall bring, Of Evil One's plans,

Of conquest of twin bells.

The one with two whites,

Will stay to spy,

And help in greatest need.

That beast is the Warrior,

Of which we've been waiting for,

To lift the sword to revenge.

So look to the south,

And wait for the first,

When Summer reigns again.

And when seed-cases fall,

The army will run,

And warrior will come."

Sharalla's eyes opened wide. She quickly returned them to their normal size, hiding her knowledge and surprise.

A voice from the back called out, momentarily forgotten. "And who is Leader and Perilous?"

"You must find out. I may not tell you that. And I need it found before the sun rises on this next morn."

Thistle asked the question that allbeasts were thinking. "Why?"

"For that is when I leave."

And then a dibbun's paw rose up.

"Ah know hoo weeder ith."

---

Tyfrac immediately lowered his guard. The liddle mite, tryin' t'arm 'im! Hah! He would have to pretend to be stern with her now, else he wouldn't have another slave!.

"Now, now, liddle 'un. Don' yer try an' wave that liddle sword o' yer's. It might 'urt somebeast bad!" He chuckled at his own cunning, in his mind. He had her now.

"No."

It hit him like a cold burst of sudden wind. He hadn't expected this. And besides, shouldn't she be shaking in fear right now? He would try once more, and then force her into the large brown sack he had with him at all times.

"I'm warnin' ye! Put down yer liddle sword or ah migh' 'ave te do sumthin' that ah don' wan' te do!"

Again he was surprised.

"No."

He sighed in his mind, yet again. Now he would have to do this.

"Alrigh', ye dicided now, no' me."

And with that, in one single liquid motion, he took the sack out, opened it, and shoved Nightsnow into it.

But he had forgotten the knife.

Nightsnow, still in the bloodwrath and angrier than ever, slit the sack in one motion. As her mother had noticed, the dagger was still sharp.

She was out.

Tyfrac cursed himself. How could he have forgotten that she had a knife? He usually noticed that. And, judging her eyes, she wanted a fight.

"Ye wan' te figh', then?"

Her mother, stupid mouse opened her mouth in horror. Despite himself he grinned. Now the brat was his! She had probably had no training in the art of weaponry. He was right, but Nightsnow knew. She somehow knew what to do.

---

_Answer him! Defy him!_

_KILL HIM!_

_Do what you think is right._

Three voices, all different, were in her mind. She had never heard them before. Except for one. The last.

She wanted to do all three. But first, she had to answer and defy.

"Yes, scum. You have no right to take me as slave!"

Nightsnow didn't know at the time that this was unusual, for her to be able to choose what to do under the full extent of the bloodwrath. But her mind was focused elsewhere. Her words, in her mind, were blood red, and they appeared to time of the beat of her heart.

_Kill, Kill, Kill, Kill Kill, KIll, KIll, KILl, KILl, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, **KILL, KILL, KILL**_

And, with no warning to Tyfrac, who still had his guard lowered, after he had signaled to the other vermin to not interfere, and simply keep watch on the mother mouse, she attacked the other vermin.

"MMRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" He tried to stifle a scream as the dagger entered his body, stabbing his hip, nearly the highest place that Nightsnow could get to with her weapon.

"YER GOIN' TE DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!" Tyfrac yelled, enraged. Cursing aloud, he swung his cutlass at the mousebabe. Nightsnow ducked, the tip of the cutlass cutting a thin, but not dangerous, line her skin on the top of the her head. Taking advantage of her low place, she stabbed one of Tyfrac's foot paws, the tip protruding from the other side of the paw. Quickly, she drew it out and rolled out of the way as, as she had anticipated, the stoat screamed again and stabbed his cutlass into the dirt. Blood was flowing from both wounds, and his face was distorted with pain. Tyfrac, seeing that she had escaped him once again, vowed in his head to either kill her, or keep her personal slave. He had had thirty-nine so far, and all had died. Perhaps she would last longer.

He howled in pain yet agaun, as she stabbed the opposite footpaw. He crumpled onto the ground, and he locked eyes with the mousemaid.

And then he knew why he was nearly dead.

Two balls of a burning red, with a hint of her original hazel eye coloring.

Nightsnow was panting. "See, stoat?" she spat at him. "I will kill you, a mere dibbun. But one of your species took one of my ancestor's friends, her love, when he was only a bit older then I. And he returned to kill that stoat. As will I."

_As will I…_ Tyfrac knew he was dead.

And, true to her word, the last thing that Tyfrac heard was those three words, and the last thing that he saw, was two orbs of a flaming red, with specks of hazel coloring. And he could've sworn that her eyes were truly on fire.

---

While Levirkad and Dobane were throwing insults at each other, both Sandunal and Rosilla were edging towards the table, where there was a wonderful assortment weapons lying around; table knives, daggers, spoonds, heavy wooden ladles, wooden plates and bowls, as well as cups.

They decided to use the heavy wooden ladles.

Rosilla glanced nervously at Levirkad. His paw was nearly at the small lump inside of his cloak. They had to act fast.

Nodding at Sandunal, they both lifted the ladles quickly and silently, out of the bowls. One had soup all over it, the other was some sort of gravy. Sandunal quickly darted her eyes to the one that wanted them as slaves.

Putting a paw to her mouth, she indicated sneaking around, using the tables around them, to get behind the ferret.

Rosilla nodded. At that, they dropped down and crawled to get behind Levirkad. This was the most difficult of the plan, as Levirkad noticed them gone.

"Dobane, where have you put your beasts? I want them as my slaves!" Levirkad, in his haste, dropped his paw out of his cloak. Noticing this, and Dobane not, he cursed under his breath, and continued to sneak his paw into his cloak.

"Well, Levirkad, I don't know where they went, and you will NOT have them as slaves!"

The bickering continued, escalating to shouts and screams.

"I WILL HAVE THEM!"

"NO YOU WON'T!"

"YES I WILL!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

"NO!"

Taking advantage of their concentrated fight of words, Sandunal and Rosilla increased the speed of their crawling. Sooner than they thought they would, they were poised behind the verming they wished gone.

"Slowly, get up. And conk him on the head!" Though her words were low and muttered, she rubbed her paws with obvious glee.

Rosilla stifled a sigh. She held up one paw section.

One.

Sandunal stopped, and gripped her ladle tighter.

Two.

Rosilla also gripped her ladle, and nodded her head.

Three.

Slowly, they rose up, arms ready to hit Levirkad's head. But Levirkad felt their footpaws, shaking the decorated wood floor. He twirled around.

"Ah," he exclaimed. "There is one of you. Where is the other?"

Sandunal looked at him with blank eyes. "I dunno."

She really didn't know, as Rosilla had seen the twitch in Levirkad's muscles, and the direction of which they were going to turn. Quickly, she had dropped to the floor silently, and scooted around Levirkad as he turned.

Patience waning, Levirkad snarled at the mousemaid with the grey eyes and sand colored fur. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!"

Levirkad had the last button pulled as she said that. Lightning fast, he grabbed Sandunal's arm, and growled to her, menacingly low.

"Tell-me-where-the-other-one-IS!!"

"LEVIRKAD! DON' YOU HARM THAT MOUSE!!!!" Dobane was staring at the ferret's back, eyes smoldering in fury.

Without turning, Levirkad replied. "She's my slave. I _can_ hurt her."

"No, she isn't, Levirkad."

"I WILL TAKE HER BY FORCE THEN!!!!!" Levirkad dragged Sandunal by the arm to the door.

He only made it five steps until a ladle conked him on the head. Levirkad crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Rosilla had popped up, lightly stepped after him, and, judging that it was fine to attack the ferret, whacked him, hard, right between his ears.

Dobane stared at her.

"Come on, Sandunal. Get up!"

Grumbling under her breath, Sandunal got up, with the help of Rosilla. "The lily-livered, puddin'-brained, veggtable-fingered waste bucket!"

"Yes, he's all that and more."

"But of course he is! He's a lop-eared lettuce leaf! A blinkin' bug! And he's a …." Sandunal continued to rant and rave, uttering insults at the unconscious ferret.

Dobane tapped Rosilla lightly on the shoulder.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing. We didn't want to be slaves."

"Well, nevertheless, thank you. And, if you would like to, you can go to your room, or, with the accompaniment of a guard, view my underground realm."

"We will be sure to." Rosilla knew that this was a time to be formal, and had much practice with it.

"Your choice?"

"For now, we will return to our room."  
Dobane suddenly hit his forhead, in despair. "I forgot!"

"What?"

"You do need to eat, don't you?"

"Yes. And, if you may, we will fill up two trays with food."  
"As you wish." Dobane was obviously relieved that the two mousemaids hadn't been taken by Levirkad. And they knew why.

The prophecy.

---

The boat sailed thorough the now opened gates, on a river of magma, twisting and turning until it disappeared off into the distance.

"This is the River Snake."

"Snake? What a horrible name. Snakes are full of evil."

"Exactly why it was named so. The river is full of magma, hot and burning with, in a way, evil. And it twists and turns, avoiding the attacker, striking sometimes."

Mariel could see it now. The river curved and danced, jutting out at times. This, she supposed, was the stricking part.

As they got closer, she saw the River Snake disappear into yet another gate, this one opening into a large fortress. Many specks were also there, toiling away. _More vermin_, she thought.

"Why are the vermin slaving away?"

"Hush. I will tell you later. We must talk in my room, in secrecy."

Snorting, Mariel crossed her arms, and turned away. Impatient as ever, she wanted answers _now!_

Trentilis chuckled.

"Don't laugh!" She snapped.

"I wasn't!" He bore a grin, cheekier than Mariel had ever done.

"What do you call it then, eh?"

"Chuckling."

"Well, then, stop chuckling!"

Trentilis snorted with laughter, eyes blazing with merriness.

"Stop!"

"Stop what?" Trentilis was obviously teasing her, and enjoying it at that.

"Doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Laughing at me!"

"I wasn't !" He widened his eyes with innocence.

Mariel rolled her eyes.

"Fine then, stop snorting."

Trentilis, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"No, don't-"

Mariel was too late, as he let out a fake, high-pitched giggle.

"Auuuuuuugh!" Mariel tore at her ears, even though it hurt. To her, Trentilis was So, so, SO annoying! And she wouldn't have expected it at all when they were fighting.

Trentilis smiled sweetly at Mariel, like a Dibbun would.

"I like you too."

Mariel groaned. This, she thought, was a horrible kind of torture.

She reached for her Gullwhacker, and then remembered.

Trentilis had destroyed it.

Her eyes smoldered and stung with tears as she turned away, once more from him. She couldn't attack him; obviously, he could throw her into the river of Magma.

Mariel absolutely HATED being helpless. Gabool had made her experience it many times, as his slave, and when he pushed her over the side of the cliff, her neck tied to a large boulder. And she had cursed it the entire time.

Oh, did she hate that feeling.

Trentilis, noting that something was wrong, whispered in her ear, with kindness, motives unknown to Mariel.

"Mariel? Is something wrong?" Immediately he cringed, hearing how stupid it sounded.

The warrior-mousemaid whirled one him, eyes like living coals. "Is something wrong? IS SOMETHING WRONG?" she spat. "I'll tell you what is wrong! It is YOU! You took me into this world of unearthly fire and heat. You annoy me to no end, not taking the clues. You make me-yes, me!- feel helpless. And, the thing that is the most wrong, is THAT YOU DESTROYED MY ONLY WEAPON! NOW I CAN **NEVER** MAKE ANOTHER! IT WAS MY FIRST! IF YOU KNEW, OH, IF YOU KNEW, YOU WOULD HAVE NEVER, **_EVER_** HAVE DESTROYED IT!" Mariel was in a raging fury. "THAT IS, IF YOU WERE A KIND BEAST. AND I HATE YOU! I WISH THAT I COULD KILL YOU! BUT I CAN'T! I CAN'T!" She was sobbing and yelling at the same time now. "YOU'RE ALREADY DEAD! AND I CAN **NOT** DO ANYTHING TO GET OUT OF THIS ACCURSED PLACE! YOU-YOU, TRENTILIS, ARE THE SNAKE!" Mariel's anger and confusion were evident, all of her emotions, wrapped into one.

Losing the Gullwhacker had made her emotions mix together in a whirlwind of fury.

All that Trentilis could do was sit helplessly and listen as the next pair of golden gates came closer, along with the golden fortress.

Where he lived, and where he kept his prisoners.

---

Rose stiffened. Badrang? How did he get out of Hellgates? And if there was only Badrang in there, Martin wouldn't have cried 'vermin'.

There were more vermin within the Singing Forest.

Rose, despite herself, chuckled at the name right now. Now the Forest wasn't singing. Most definitely not.

Rose took a deep breath, and drew from her bag an item that Martin hadn't noticed her pack.

A dirk.

She also took out a belt, with a great number of daggers in their sheaths, attatched to the belt. This she hid under her tunic, though the belt rubbed against her fur.

No matter. The vermin, if they caught her, wouldn't expect it. They wouldn't think that a maiden like her would have such a discomfort.

And, with a deep breath, Rose stepped into the non-singing Forest.

---

The mousemaid swept a vine of ivy out of the way, careful not to cut any leaves off. The forest deserved some respect.

On the alert, Rose tread quietly and tried her best to not make noise. A leaf cackled loudly or a twig snapped at times, and Rose would cringe, ready to dart to the nearest tree, but nobeast came.

After a spell of walking, Rose smelled smoke.

Where there was smoke, there was fire.

Where there was fire, there was most likely beasts around.

The only beasts that would make a fire with no concern whatsoever for the forest, were vermin.

The only vermin in the Dark Forest that she knew of were Badrang and the others of which Rose heard Martin yell of.

And that was where Martin was, most likely.

It was by this process of elimination that Rose concluded that that was where she needed to go.

She really didn't want to.

With another deep breath, she tread slowly and silently, following the trail of smoke to a small clearing within the middle of the forest.

And there was Badrang, along with a few of his horde, laughing around a large fire, opposite of seven gagged, hooded, and tied prisoners.

Rose cursed silently under her breath. So this was why the others weren't there to meet them.

They were captured by Badrang.

The mousemaid, as best as she could, climbed the nearest tree that she was able to climb, in order to hear the vermin's conversation.

"….fine catch, don't ye think? 'even beasts!"

"Yer right, matey. Badrang, ye' sure nobeast else'll miss 'em?"

"We'll see, Hisk." A cold voice answered, full of malice.

Badrang!

Rose thought quickly. There were four other vermin, all that she could name-Hisk, Skalrag, Gurrad, and Boggs. Vermin to their worst.

"We don't know wha' their names are, Sire." The fox warmed his paws near the fire.

"We don't need names!" The Warlord snapped back, his expression suddenly thoughtful. "Though we could gain some information from them."

He glanced at Gurrad, and pointed to the first in line, obviously the biggest. With no doubt, it was Boar.

Gurrad grinned evilly, and cut the rope that held the hood in place.

As Rose had thought, it was Boar.

He started to snarl at Badrang, pulling back his gums to reveal sharp, fearsome teeth and fangs.

On signal, though, Hisk put his dagger up against a neck. Boar couldn't, as Rose knew, let that one get hurt. No, they wouldn't die, but they would spend a half-score of seasons unconscious. That wasn't very fun, and she knew one who had gone through it.

The Great Badger Lord quit snarling, reducing it to a deep rumble within his chest.

"Now, badger, who are you?"

"It is not your business!"

"You prove to be……immovable. Perhaps…." Badrang gestured towards the creature with the dagger against it's neck.

"No!" came the muffled reply. "Don't!" A short jab in the stomach silenced the creature.

"Fine then. Re-hood him." Badrang, Rose could tell, had little patience.

One by one, the others were revealed.

Felldoh was next.

When asked, he just spat in Badrang's face. "Go and beat yourself, scum!"

Recognition dawned on Badrang's face. "You!" he snarled.

"Yes, me. I left my mark on you, I see."

Self consciously, the stoat reached a paw up to a large, purple bruise on his cheek, and then dropped it.

"Hood."

Then came Ballaw.

"'Ere comes Tibbar, Wot wot!"

Fury was readable on Badrang's face. He gave the order to put the hood back on.

"Yuur a villyun, stoater!" Dinny told him in his curious molespeech.

Methuselah's reply came next. "In all of the vermin I have seen, you, my brother, are the worst." He said it in a polite way, as he usually did, but this carried some venom in it.

"'Ello, matey? Care for a ballad?" Gonff was cheery, as usual.

Badrang, quite foolishly, agreed.

"I shall sing you a ballad, of a horrible stoat!

His father a snake, his mother a toad.

Oh, this-"

Badrang had him gagged.

And then Martin was un-hooded.

His eyes were full of malice, fire burning within, yearning to be free.

"Hello, Badrang."

"I don't know you." Badrang was mildly surprised.

"Yes, you do."

"No."

"I was one of your slaves." Martin was gently hinting, wanting to goad Badrang. Rose nearly slapped her head in frustration, and instead, having a bad feeling about it, took out, of her assortment of many weapons, a sling and a small bag of pebbles.

"I had many."

"You should remember me. I am surprised that you don't."

"Why should I remember you? I have no care for remembering slaves." Badrang spoke in a careless tone.

"You should remember me, for I was your downfall."  
Confusion was written everywhere on his face, until, looking a while longer in Martin's face, anger spread out after a quick wave of recognition.

"Martin……"

"Yes."

Badrang revealed a dagger, and whipped it out.

"I have been waiting a long, long time for this."

And, with that, Badrang advanced upon Martin.

And Rose, seeing a pinecone, hard and green in it's early days, dangling right above where Badrang's head was to be next.

With lightning speed, she whipped a pebble into her sling, twirled it, aimed and released the pebble.

---

Emerald crouched against a tent, hidden by it's large shadow, which she accepted gratefully, as she spied upon the group of vermin to be terrorized.

They were playing a game of chance, betting their possessions in the process.

"Roll the dice, Greentooth!" One called, a ferret with a brass earring in her left ear.

"A'right, Brassear! Bet one, Bet all!"

He started to shake the dice, and many vermin searched in their pockets, while a few others searched through small piles of possessions.

"'Ere, I'll put in my glass marble fer a one!"

"A dagger, jewled an' e'reythin', an' I'm bettin it on a three!"

"Nice tunic, goin' in fer a two!"

"One 'o me swords, a broad one a' that, fer a sixer!"

This encouraged others to put in better, fancier things.

"A small sappire! Five's my guess!"

"Tooth o' one of those giant fish, bettin' on a four!"

"Some cord for a necklace, a one!"

"Hanky, embroidered prettily, fer a four!"

At last, the one called Greentooth, a rat with a, like his name, a green tooth, called out "I'm a throwin'!"

As he let the die fall onto the table, all of the vermin watched the dice fall, all praying silently that it was their number that would show up.

"It's a two!" He shouted, and the rat with the warped fang who had thrown in his tunic jumped up and yelled with joy. With piercing glares directed at him, of which he miraculously ignored, and greedily swept everything up.

Emerald knew her plan now.

The rat was examining everything, stroking each one as he inspected it. And Emerald had noticed something.

He always won, no matter what.

So, she would take the whole, huge pile, and distribute it amongst the other vermin.

Oh, this was going to be fun!

Her chance came in the form of another distraction.

"Let's stop. Crookedfang, put your stuff in your tent, and let's go practice."  
"Fine b'me!"

After they had left, Emerald sneaked into the tent where he had entered, easily found his bunk. There were treasures just plopped at the side of his bed, and she recognized the one sapphire.

Grinning with obvious mischievousness, she unfolded a sack, carried within her tunic, and shoved everything,-yes, _everything_- into it. Traveling to the other ten bunks in the tent, she placed a few items in hiding spaces that they used everyday to do different things with.

And she exited, moving to the next tent in line.

She did this throughout the entire circle of the eleven tents, and her sack was _still_ bulging.

So she went to the next camp.

Luckily, the other vermin had told all of the others that they were going to practice their weapon skills.

And the others had joined them.

After visiting six other camps, only one item remained in her sack as she looked over the last bunk. She pulled it out, and immediately recognized it.

She pocketed it, and carefully folded her sack.

Emerald wove her way around the campsites, back to the kitchen tent, only to be stopped by a weasel.

"Now, wer d'ya think yer goin'?"

She faced him without a fear. "Back to the cooking tent."

"I think that yer gonna be me slave tonight, don' ye?"

Emerald's eyes burned. "No, I don't think so."

He gripped her cruely by the arm. "I don' think I 'eard ye. Say 'gain?" His eyes were cruel, and filled with a menacing glare.

"I said, as you are probably to deaf to hear, according to your actions, 'No, I don't think so.' Is that clear, or will I have to shout it?"

"Well, then, ye can be me pri'oner!"

And then, without warning, he lunged for her neck, stopped only by a cold voice from within the shadows.

"I don't think so."

The weasel stopped, and glared at the challenger. "Who may ye be."

"You know my name, but I shall not reveal it to you."

"Ye wan' me slave?"

Two twin eyes of a golden yellow stared at him. "I suppose so, yes."

"Wel' then, yer gon' te 'ave t'figh' for 'er!" With a roar, he launched himself at the mysterious creature, saber out.

With astonishing speed, the creature whipped a long sword out and dodged the saber, striking at the weasel with enough force and swiftness that could rival even Emeralds'.

The weasel cried out in pain, and increased his attack.

He never hit anything except thin air.

And the creature stayed in the shadows.

The skirmish only lasted a little bit, five minutes at most. The weasel was pinned down, fear in his eyes.

"Do you know who I am now?"

"N-n-no, s-s-sir."

"Ah…..you have not recognized me at all?"

"N-n-n-no-o-o."

"Well then, see my face." With that, the creature revealed his face to the weasel. Emerald saw, but then again, she already knew about it.

"Since you have tried to force a slave-an entertainment slave at that- to be yours when it already belonged to somebeast else, and that you have heard my voice, you will DIE!"

"No-No PLEASE NO!!!!!" The weasel shrieked. "PLEASE, MA-"

With that, the creature plunged his sword mercilessly into the weasel's body, his chest, his heart.

And with one gasp, and an exhale, the weasel's eyes clouded over, and his heart continued to do its' job, getting weaker and weaker all the while.

---

Nightsnow crumpled to the ground as the vermin fled the scene, leaving her mother. Her energy drained from her body, and she dropped the bloodied knife. She saw her mother, in a blurry vision, kneel down beside her and pick her up.

The last thing that she heard from her mother before she fell into the deep abyss, was a one word.

"Nightsnow?"

---

A/N: Was it alright?

I looked back at my earlier chapters, and was a bit surprised at how (stupid) they seemed. I make a honest compliment to Fanfiction and the reviewing concept-It really helps my writing. Also, if the reviews are constructable critism ( I don't know what it really is, and if this is right, it was a guess)

Thank you for reading my story.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I am sorry for the delay, but I hope that you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 19: 

Nightsnow woke, panting slightly, drenched in sweat. She expected to find herself on the tent floor of Oveline's tent, yet she was in her own cot.

And then she remembered.

She silently bowed her head. Such memories were best forgotten, her mother had always said. So she had stored these in a quiet corner.

But the Bloodwrath had brought them back.

"Nightsnow………"

She looked up to see Sky's face, concern in her sky-blue eyes. She silently turned her hazel eyes away.

"You must be so afraid of me. You must not want to be with me anymore." Tears started to well up in her eyes, which Sky noticed.

"Oh, Nightsnow." Silently, the young otter picked up Nightsnow, grunting silently under the mousemaid's weight, and sitting down on her own bed. "I, nor any of the others, would abandon you. Yes, we were a bit scared when that first happened." Sky chuckled softly. "But, in a war, you would look even more frightening to the enemy."

"Yeah." Nightsnow was quick to recover. She wiped the tears away, and asked Sky a question.

"Has this ever happened to you?"

The ottermaid sighed. "No, luckily. But Nauru says that allbeasts usually go through this, it's just that most go through it before his death."

Nightsnow nodded, and her eyes took on something grim. "I need to tell the others, and you, something."

"What?"

"My life. My mother said that some memories were best forgotten-But I have to tell you this.

"But I also want to hear your stories."

"Your lives."

Sky agreed with a short nod. "You think that you can handle being here alone?"

Nightsnow gave a grim smile. "Yes. Besides, if anybeast tries to do anything to me, I'm ready with my, in a way, power. My ability. My…."

"Curse?"

"Exactly."

"Well, I'll be going, then." Sky gently deposited Nightsnow onto her bunk, and went through the flap that divided the sleeping area from the cooking place.

Nightsnow sighed, and glanced through a flap that served as a window. The sun was low in the sky, and, even though she didn't know where he was, Oveline would be expecting his meal.

Without a word, Nightsnow walked into the kitchen place, and, started pulling herbs down from the makeshift shelves, wondering what to do with them.

Her eyes brightened, and she shuffled through the piles of….things, until she found a pole with a special kind of rope. At the end of the rope was a crude wooden hook.

Gathering that, a deep stockpot, and a few bits of bait, Nightsnow went to the edge of camp, where an unnatural pool filled with fish lay.

* * *

Sandunal and Rosilla sat on their two beds, picking at their trays in silence. Finally, Sandunal set her tray carefully on one of the few pieces of furniture put in their space, and, in her case, it was a wicker table. 

Rosilla looked up, a question dancing in her keen eyes. Sandunal already knew what it was before she even spoke it.

"I want to get OUT of here."

Carefully setting her tray down as well on a table similar to Sandunal's, she asked another inquiry.

"What do you mean by 'out' exactly?"

Sandunal got up and paced a faded woven run on the hard-packed dirt floor. "I need to see different things. Other than this room, the hall that we ALWAYS take to Dobane's dining room, and his eating room!"

Rosilla was silent for a moment. "I agree, but what if there is a guard outside of our door, making sure that we don't get out?"

"Why would the rat want to do that?"

"We're his prize, in a way. He needs us for the prophecy, but he doesn't want us getting out of here, so that we can possibly escape."

"I'll try first, then." Sandunal was at the door in only a few pawsteps. Rosilla stood, and groaned.

"Sandunal….." she whispered softly. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." With that, the mousemaid turned the knob on the door, and lightly pushed. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Sandunal pushed the door further open. Nobeast was in sight, and only a corridor was in view, bathed in a flickering yellow light from the torches that lit the way.

"Come on!" Sandunal had whipped herself out of the room and on the other side of the door.

"I don't have a good feeling about this." Rosilla could not get rid of a foreboding in her mind, tugging at her.

When Sandunal didn't answer, she peered catiously out of the door. Carefully, she peeked at the corner where the door had it's hinges. There was a staircase that she could see only because of her renewed eyesight. Footpaws tracked around it.

She sniffed the air, and smelled the light sensation of Sandunal fill her nose, as well as another, different, and dangerous, smell, overpowering the first. Rosilla stopped herself, reminding herself that she didn't want to have anything of her old life to remain, as she was trained as a tracker in the Juskablitht clan.

Remembering that made her remember Luker, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Collapsing, she sobbed uncontrollably. Luker……she still had to revenge him. She thought back to that day.

Searats…..Corsairs…..They were the ones who had killed him. She was sure of that now. What she needed now, was proof.

Summoning back the memory, as painful as it was, she inspected it. The heap of bodies, the sand….Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until she saw the flag on the horizon, something that she hadn't seen before.

The symbol of a blazing silver ring took most of it up, but within was a pair of crossed bones.

Corsairs.

And she was sure that she had seen that sign before. Sometime recent. So, with an uncanny ability, she sifted through the memories since that day.

Then she came to the memory of that one vermin, Levirkad.

As with the others, she looked at it carefully, in her mind. Over everything. And she found nothing suspicious until she came to the fur on the back of the paw hanging loose.

Shaved into it was a sign.

A ring, aflame.

And within it, a pair of crossed bones.

Rage bubbled within Rosilla, and her mind screamed.

_MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! __**MURDERER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**_

She shook herself. Now was not the time. She had to find Sandunal.

Carefully, she returned to the room, and placed a cloak upon herself. Taking a dagger, something she had expertly slid from the table and had concealed, she placed it on her bed while she put on a length of rope to hold the dagger in place, wrapping it in a small cloth first.

Silently, Rosilla blew out the one of the lighted candles, took the other, and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned back her tracking training, sniffed a couple of times, and set up the dark stair way.

* * *

Sandunal had whirled around the door, carefully examining her surroundings. But, unluckily for her, she didn't have Rosilla's vision, and couldn't see the dark shape lurking behind a darkened stairway. 

She suddenly felt an arm encircle her neck, and a paw stifle a cry of surprise about to come out.

"Don't do _anything_." A voice whispered into her ear. "Or I may have to do something that I will later regret.

_How about I bite your paw? Or stomp your footpaw really hard?_ Sandunal thought acidly. _I would love to. Hey, how about you let me go __**or else**_

The beast holding her, of course couldn't hear a thing. It silently propelled her up a case of stairs that she hadn't noticed before, and, in one quick motion, threw her over its' shoulder.

"Aarrrrrmph!!" Sandunal tried to shriek, and alert the guards, but once again, the beast stifled her noise with its' paw.

"I warned you."

The beast increased its' speed up the stairs, footpaws silently thudding against the hard stone.

Sandunal began to feel sick.

The mousemaid nearly moaned in agony, but she herself stifled it. No, it might be a thing that might **please** her captor, and, of course not, she didn't want to please it, of all beasts! She suddenly, without reason, thought of her little cousin.

Oh, she hoped Nightsnow was alright!

Sandunal thought back. The sickness faded away. Nightsnow…..She still remembered that little maids' story about Martin the Warrior. His life in the voice of an innocent babe's.

Sandunal wondered about Nightsnow. How was she? Where was she? Would she ever see her again?

A voice entered her mind, suddenly, abruptly. A male voice.

_**You wish to know of your cousin?**_

Sandunal nearly shrank back in reality. Without realizing it, she cried out in her mind, _Who are you? What do you want? GO AWAY!!!!!!!!_

_**I am the chooser of am that is.**_

Slowly, Sandunal creeped back, recognizing the voice, as if out of a dream. _Martin?_

_**Yes, it is I.**_

_How…What…Where…_

_**Shhh…..I have only a little time to do this.**_

_Huh?_

_**The Dark Forest is not danger-free.**_

Sandunal felt herself panicking as she was carried further up. _What do you mean?_

_**Danger has escaped the walls of Hellgates. I am with my enemy.**_

_Tsarmina?_

_**There is no time for this! Do you want to know about your cousin or not? **_Martin sounded frustrated, strained.

_I do!_ Sandunal recognized the situation. She herself had experienced this before a few times.

_**Alright. I have to put you unconscious in order for you to see her.**_

_I understand._

With a sudden blast, a wave of darkness swept into the mousemaid's eyes, and with a short gasp, fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

All eyes fell on the dibbun who had spoken. Thune spoke up. 

"You said that _you_ know who 'Leader' is in the riddle?"

"Yeth."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Awv courth a'm thure! Weeder ith-" the dibbun broke off mischeviously.

Ffindle tried to reason with the dibbun. "Who is leader? Please tell us!"

"No."

"Why not?"

With a smug grin, the dibbun explained. "Whay do a' 'ave to?"

Sister Amiel yelled loudly. "Hmmmmmm, if the dibbun won't tell us, perhaps I will get out my tonic! He's obviously not well."

The dibbun paled visibly. He had a good reason to.

When there was no answer, Amiel started to loudly rattle around in her medical bag she carried around by habit. "Alright! I'll get the tonic out!"

"Nooooo! A' wun 'way!" The dibbun, scared out of his wits, tried to push the crowd away from him. Ffindle interfered.

"Ey, mate. I'll save ye from yonder beast, if ye tell us who Leader is, wot wot!" Ffindle adopted the tone of a friendly otter, and mutilated it horribly, whispering.

Nevertheless, the dibbun looked up at Ffindle with hopeful eyes. "Eaw wi'?"

"Yes."

"Pwomith?"

"On my heart." Ffindle lowered his voice even further.

"A' dunno." The dibbun was holding back.

"Alright! I've got the tunic bottle!" Amiel cried cheerfully.

"Akay! I tella yoo!"

"Who is leader?"

The dibbun looked at him scornfully. "You thtill don' no?"

Ffindle sighed. This dibbun was getting on his nerves. "If you are going to be cheeky, I will direct you to Sis-"

"Nononononononononooooooo! Isa tell! Isa tell!"

"Who is leader? For the last time, I'm warning you."

"Ith Abbot."

"How?"

"Abbot weeder of abbaye, tho ith weeder."

"You want to tell them, or do you want me to?" Ffindle wanted to get this over and done with. It figured. The Abbot was very important-not that he, the lowly, no-good troublemaker, could be.

"ME!"

"Alright, I'll take you up to the Abbot." He wondered who 'Perilous' was, if 'Leader' was the Abbot.

Ffindle, with a paw gently on the dibbuns shoulder, led him up to the Abbot. He could feel many pairs of eyes on his back, but didn't turn. He knew already who was watching him.

Everybeast, or most, at least, were watching the pair make their way up to the Abbot, who watched them with curiosity, wondering what the answer was, and why it had come from one of the young'uns. A dibbun.

Finally, after what seemed like two score seasons, they were at the head of the long table.

"So, my son, would you like to tell them? Or should I?"

The dibbun almost rolled his eyes. It was quite annoying to be asked this question over and over.

"I wanna telum. Me!"

"Alright, then, tell them, my son."

Suddenly he became very shy of the crowd in front of him, staring, with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, meyb' I wonsta telum." He, unknowingly, was sneaking in the direction of the Infirmary Sister.

With a nod of the head from the Abbot, she grabbed him. With a squeal of fright, he curled up into a ball. There was a short giggle in the crowd, silenced by the Abbot's stern glare.

"Amiel-give him to Ffindle. Perhaps he can help him." Merrick whispered to the sister, who nodded in agreement.

Ffindle sighed as the little ball of fur was deposited into his arms. Speaking gently, he asked the dibbun one last time.

"Would you like to tell them?"

"Isa skaerd."

"Why is that?"

"Tooo manthy!"

"It's alright. It's alright. You can do this." Softly, he put the dibbun down on its' paws.

"Pease……'elp me." The dibbun pleaded.

"Alright. I'll sta't it out for you. Is that alright?"

"Yeth."

Ffindle opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "What's your name, sirrah?"

"Neth."

"Neth?" Ffindle had to be sure.

"Yeth, Neth."

"Alright. I'll tell 'em." The hare raised his voice. "This dibbun, bah the name 'o Neth-"

Suddenly, he was interrupted.

"Neth? The liddle villain stole my strawberries intended for the trifle!"

"An' my sandals!"

"Stoppit, he's only a dibbun! Don't do that!"

"Yeah, like I ever did that. He deserves punishment."

Suddenly, the Hall rang with arguments, fighting over a silly thing like the fact that Neth was naughty. It was expected of all dibbuns, but some went as far to say that he was not unlike Veil, whom they had taken in many seasons ago, who stole things, tried to murder an abbeybeast, and was banished. True, Neth had stolen some things, but he hadn't _murdered_ anybody.

Ffindle heard one comment that made him go red with anger.

"Well, mayhap the rabbit decided to help Neth, and then leave us to blame the dibbun. In my opinion, the rabbit _and_ the dibbun should be thrown out immediately!"

He had enough.

"STOP FIGHTIN', YE LOPSIDED, LAZY LETTUCE LEAVES!" Ffindle roared at the crowd. They didn't quit.

"**QUIT-IT-NOW!!!!!! CAN YE BE FLIPPIN' QUIET SO THAT THE DIBBUN CAN SPEAK?"**

The noise died down, astonished faces turned towards Ffindle and Neth, who looked as though he had suddenly realized something.

"Thank you. As I said before, Neth has something to say, and I suggest that you jolly well listen, wot wot!!" Ffindle nodded towards Neth, and the little dibbun mouse stepped forward

"The weeder ith abboth. E's weeder of abbaye. An' I altho jus' figu'ed out who ith pewawas."

The silence prevailed, though Merrick was looking a bit shocked, and caught unawares.

"Pewawas ith finduh!"

"Who?" Ffindle asked politely.

The dibbun looked at him, astonished. "You thtill goan't no?"

"No-o."

"Ith ooo!" The dibbun pointed at Ffindle.

The hare was too astonished to speak.

And he fainted.

* * *

Oveline watched Emerald, waiting for a wave of recognition to pass across her face. None came. 

"Emerald?" He ventured to whisper softly. There was steel in it-it wasn't meant to be soft.

"Yes, Ovel-"

"Call-me-master." Emerald caught a glimpse of his eyes. Their once-yellow-gold eyes had turned darker.

He was getting to be like Cluny. Or so she thought.

"Yes, _Master_." Emerald spit it out with hatred.

"Good. Come to my tent tonight. With that mouse, the singing one." Oveline had obviously ignored the venom in her voice. "At dusk."

The black fox turned on his heel, dismissing his protector.

He needed to talk to the mouse.

About Redwall.

His horde was getting restless, they needed slaves, a new fortress, and many other things.

They wanted to fight, to experience victory.

They needed to taste victory-they needed, to defeat Redwall.

* * *

Emerald watched him walk off, a new hatred filling her body with anger and ferocity. She would never, _ever_ trust a vermin. Ever. 

He was up to something. It had been in his eyes, in his voice. And he had wanted her, Emerald, to bring Nightsnow to him. Most likely, he wanted information. But what information?

All of a sudden, the words of that voice filled her head once more.

_**ONE MUST FLEE,**_

_**FROM THE CAMP,**_

_**THE OTHERS STAY BEHIND, **_

_**WHEN SUMMER REIGNS AGAIN.**_

She also recalled her thoughts earlier that morning. The fourth point was easily answered. The one had to go to warn the beasts in the place where the escaper had to go. Now the tricky ones- who was to go, and, most importantly, how were they going to get away with this.

She had a good idea that she would find this all out that night. After all, he was bound to tell Nightsnow, and, as she was to bring her to him and, most likely, stay there, she would know. Otherwise, Nightsnow would know, at least, or get a very good idea about it.

No matter now. Right now, she had to take it out of the sack. The possession. How they had gotten this, she didn't know.

Silently, and swiftly, she took out the small wooden woodwind instrument. She smelled the wood, and a smile stretched her face slightly, as she smelled the pine, though faint. She inspected device carefully and thoroughly, and saw only the smallest scrape. So her fathers experimental preserve worked well. Slowly she started to hold it to her lips, but then stopped, and placed it within her tunic.

Her mothers'.

She would not use it-yet. She still needed time.

But a song kept nagging at the corners of her mind. The notes revealed themselves in her brain, her mental picture.

She walked quickly, and used the path she usually did, the quickest route. Suddenly, the crack of a whip suddenly sounded, and she jumped. Looking around quickly, she saw a line of slaves being driven into the camp, down the ladder, chained together. There were no other slaves.

So….he was back.

With more deprived of freedom.

Another whip sounded, and she saw another group of slaves, _from_ the camp this time, and the squirrelmaid saw them being forced to dig a small pit, and roll heavy logs, upright them, and bind them together.

Her emerald eyes danced with a seemingly living flame, anger and revulsion within them.

How dare he! She had seen many of these slaves before….but they had been unchained, unwhipped, cleaning the camp.

Smoldering, she stomped to the kitchen tent. Those in her way were mercilessly barreled through. Unless it was a slave. Then, Emerald stopped, and, to the confusion of the vermin, helped the slave up, as they were when she ran into them, and distributed half of their load to the nearest vermin, eyes challenging the enemy to do otherwise.

They had already seen her fight. Though they doubted that she would harm them, they'd rather not find out themselves.

So they went with the slaves, and did what they had to, lest the squirrelmaid was watching.

They knew they were angry.

They, quite sensibly, didn't do what the squirrelmaid challenged them to do. Luckily for them.

Emerald finally got to the cooking tent, and ran over the numbers in her head. About fourteen vermin knocked over, nine slaves pulled up and helped, and nine vermin with half-or more- of the slaves load. Eight of which actually did what she wanted them to.

That reminded her. That one….she had to find him.

So, wheeling around, she found the vermin tripping another slave. She let out a quiet growl, and stalked towards him.

She, like the other slaves she had run into, helped the slave up. But, instead of giving the vermin half of the load, she gave him all of it, except one small log, which she gave to the slave with a whisper.

"So you won't get in trouble."

With a penetrating glare, she eyed the vermin, challenging him to do otherwise. As he prepared to set the logs down, she raised her eyebrows. Catching this movement, the vermin sullenly carried the logs down with the slave, checking every few pawsteps that she was still there, watching.

She was.

When he finished, she turned and went back into the tent.

She prepared to get Nightsnow, and found the mousemaid silently cooking the fish, that, unknown to Emerald, she had caught earlier.

Emerald stole a glance at the sun, which was almost at the point that was considered dusk.

"Nightsnow. Oveline wants us to go to his tent at dusk."

Sky, sitting nearby, jumped up. "I'll get Nauru!"

Emerald shook her head. "No. I meant Nightsnow and I."

"Oh." Sky drooped a little bit. "Alright. I guess."

"I didn't mean to leave you out! Its' just that he _commanded_ me, in a sense, to take Nightsnow with me to his tent. He didn't say anything about you and Nauru."

"What do you think that its' about?" Nightsnow whispered quietly. "And how long would it take? 'Cause I've got to tell you a story."

"I have no clue about how long it'll take, but its' probably because he wants information of some sort. And," the squirrelmaid paused, sincerity in her eyes. "I think that he's getting a bit mad. He's not like he used to be. When we were first sold to the maggot."

Sky nodded, and then paused to frown. "We've only been here a fortnight!"

Nauru appeared suddenly in the tent frame, whistling. He made his way over to Emerald, and plopped down beside her. "How's my liddle Emer?" the squirrel used his old name for her, and was in a good mood. "They say, from the slaves who are being forced to make their own 'living quarters' as the vermin say," Here he paused, and mumbled under his breath, then continued. "That a young squirrelmaid, probably one of those 'special slaves' kept helping up the slaves who fell to get up, and gave half of their load to a vermin nearby, whom quietly went along with them. One said that she had the vermin whom tripped him carry all but a log of their load." He grinned. "Scared the vermin half to death?"

Emerald nodded, a smile playing at her lips. "Nightsnow and I are scheduled to be in our 'master's' company tonight, at dusk." She hurridly looked out one of the flaps of the tent lifted up. Nearly time. She stood as Nightsnow put the finishing touches to the fish, and put it over the flames. "We'd better go."

Nauru gave her a wary look. "Be careful." Just like their mother. Which reminded her.

"Nauru, I found this with one of the vermin." As she said that, she produced the flute, and handed it to her brother.

He looked at it carefully, and looked at her. "Mothers, right."

"Yes. Nightsnow, we'd better run." She took her friend's paw, and looked back at the two still there. "We'll be back." She nodded at the other two, and then she and Nightsnow ran out, Nighsnow calling in her wake,

"I'll tell you what happens, and what happened!"

The two ran all of the way, Emerald barreling through whatever vermin there were, though most had enough sense to get out of the way-fast. Nightsnow didn't have to do much but run through a cleared path that Emerald made for her out of haste. _He must not be very kind now, if she hurries so. Or,_ she paused in her thoughts, _she may be doing it for fun._ Both thoughts came close to the mark; In truth, Emerald had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be happy if they arrived exactly on time, and that he might hurt her friends as a punishment. She also barreled through the vermin because, to her, it helped calm her nerves, and she felt that the smallest bit of revenge would be taken away. Revenge was a burden, but she had to carry it to make sure that her parents rested in peace.

After a regretfully (to Emerald) short round of vermin-bowling, they arrived, panting a bit more than slightly, at Ovelines' tent. A strange sign had been erected there, with no writing on it. Emerald didn't know what to think about it.

Nightsnow suddenly caught something out of the corner of her eye, and she pointed to it with a pawfinger. "Look!"

A small bell hang from one edge of the wood plaque on the stake, and, close up, they saw the words, engraved into the sign, _**Please ring bell to see the Almighty Lord of the Diabo**_.

"It could be a trick, Nightsnow." Emerald cautioned the mousemaid as she reached her paw towards the small paw-held bell. "I know about those kinds of things. This would be the perfect prank to perform on an unknowing beast."

"Yes, but we're not supposed to barge in, are we?" Nighsnow argued with a good point.

Emerald sighed.

"Here goes nothing!"

And Nighsnow pulled the bell.

* * *

Trentilis watched the sleeping Mariel as the gates loomed closer. Suddenly, the current stopped, and there was silence. 

"OI! BLAGGUT! OPEN THE GATES!" The wolverine roared with an astounding, thunder-like voice.

"Alrigh', Cap'n!" Blaggut was dressed quite nicely, and was treated with respect, though he had an annoying habit of calling Trentilis the 'cap'n'.

Slowly, the gates lurched forward with no sound at all, and only a slight panting and muttering of rebellion were heard, quit once Trentilis came into view.

His captives had thought that they would be welcomed into Hellgates, fed, and made to wait until they could take the Dark Forest above, with as many woodland slaves as possible down there for them to torment.

They were wrong.

This was where justice was served to those who had done wrong in their lives. This was where the punishment was dealt out.

True, there were woodlanders down here, but they came down of their own accord, and swore to secrecy.

With the sound of the boat hitting the shore of black rocks, cooled lava, Blaggut came to help him, when he saw Mariel, still asleep.

"So…..ye found 'un?"

"Yes." Trentilis looked sadly at the young maid. "Remember, I had to go up there for the so-called 'match'. My friend had fooled them well."

"They sen' 'er ou' te battle with ye?"

"Yes."

"So….she's a gud figh'er?"

"Yes……She nearly cut me down. I did, though, destroy the weapon of her choice."

Blaggut looked suspicious. "Wa's 'er name?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Awww, I dunno. Sus'pi'on, I sup'ose."

"Her name, is Mariel."

"'er. Well, then, I'll ma' 'er a nu 'un."

"You know her?" Trentilis was a bit startled.

"Aye."

"How-no, wait, don't tell me. Was her father…….Joseph the Bellmaker? The one who helped to steal your captains boat?"

"Aye."

"I think, though, that it would be better to get all the rope that we can find, and let her choose one to make herself."

"I'll se' te tha' 'meditelly." Although Blaggut was a vermin, he was a decent one, and jogged back up to his post, with a stick of charcoal in his paws, no doubt to remind himself of his promise. Trentilis, picking up the sleeping, exhausted Mariel, marched into the fortress.

As he padded through the halls, a ferret, garbed like a corsair, but faintly smelling of lavender, and with clean clothing on, sidled up to the great wolverine.

"Ey, mate. Ow's it goin'?"

"Hello, Romsca." Of all the vermin, Blaggut and Romsca were one of the few that did some good, at least, in their lives, even though they had caused many to die before. "It's alright. I've got who we needed."

Romsca arched her eyebrows, the large gold loop in her left ear swaying slightly. "Th' Guardian?"

"Not Guardian. I'll tell you later. Besides, aren't you the guardian?"

The ferret grinned. "Aye, I forgot there. Thinkin' o' what ye was, mind in th' wron' place, though."

Trentilis smiled in spite of himself. "How's Veil?"

Romsca's mood darkened. "Li'l thief decided to steal me other ring." She gestured to the other hoop in her left ear. "I nee' t' get it back, ye know."

"Go and send Veil to me. I'll do my best to recover your earring." The ferrets' mood immediately lifted, and she practically skipped up the stairs, headed towards the second floor, where the good vermin resided, and the woodlanders the had offered their services to the Lord of the Ever-Burning Fires. The third floor was those of who were in the Prophecies of Hellgates, Romsca included, and the fourth floor was his, with a few empty rooms, one of which would belong to Mariel.

He was sure that one of the higher prophecies spoke of the mousemaid.

His thoughts were interrupted when a vermin sidled up to him. A pretty ferret, with silver fur, spoke.

"Sire?"

"Yes, Thairsil?"

"Five prisoners have escaped the dungeons, and stole one of the lava-boats, not your special one. It has just drifted back into the bay."

Trentilis nearly held his head with a massive forepaw, but resisted, letting out a sigh. "Can my day get any worse?"

Thairsil's sweet sky-blue eyes looked up into his, a grim look within them. "Sire, wait until you hear _who_ escaped."

* * *

A thin _thwack!_ filled the air as the pebble struck the pinecone with astonishing speed. Badrang looked up, and, seeing the rock-like pinecone hurtling towards him, leapt out of the way, the pinecone instead hitting his right thigh with a small thud. The stoat screamed in pain, eyes wild with anger. 

"Find the slingbeast!" He screamed to his cronies. Hurridly, Hisk and two others scurried around, looking for tracks in the ground. But Skalrag looked up into the trees suspiciously.

"Lord, what if the slingbeast were up in the trees? For the cone came from above, and it shot directly down unto your leg."

Badrang thought this over, grimacing all the while, rage not yet gone from his eyes.

"Good point. HISK!"

"Y-y-y-ye-e-sss, S-s-s-s-sire?"

"Quit searching the ground. Look through the trees."

Hisk immediately complained. "But, I ain't no bush-tail!"

Badrang shot daggers at his hordebeast, and made a move for his dagger. In a flash, Hisk, Gurrad, and Boggs were scratching hastily at the bark, trying to find a clawhold.

"What you waitin' for, Skalrag? Get movin'!"

Immediately, Skalrag headed for a tree on impulse.

Where Rose sat.

The mousemaid panicked. She wasn't, like Hisk had said, a squirrel! She couldn't jump from tree limb to tree limb!

She looked down. Skalrag was, with a lot of difficulty, worming his way onto the lowest limb on that side, about chest-high. The one Rose had found was low enough for her to step onto, and climb upward from that.

Upward.

She looked up, where faint sunlight flitted through the dense leaves. She would hide well there, and was light enough that she could get farther that Skalrag could. Taking a deep breath, she shifted from her comfortable position and continued ascending the tree.

At least three limbs were on the branches, and Rose was continually checking for rotten branches; she had nearly put a footpaw on one before, until she saw the bark peeling away, revealing the dark and heavily fraying wood.

She continued upwards, the pack on her back feeling like a heavy boulder. She resisted the urge to peel it off-they would find it, and immediately work on felling the tree, to try to either kill her or get her down.

Soon, a forepaw grasped a branch, which were getting thinner as she traveled upwards, and it bent.

She could go no further.

Glancing down, pushing a few leaves away, she saw the small form of Skalrag getting close to where she sat before.

Where the rotten branch was.

Skalrag, unlike Rose, did not see the tree limb until he put a footpaw down on it, heavily.

_Cr-rack!_

The fox let out an unearthly scream, as his grip on the branches was torn loose and his footpaw lost footing on the branch. He fell through the branches, it seemed, though some of the smaller ones in his path were snapped off the giant tree.

With a thud, he landed on the hard-packed ground, moaning. Rose felt as though somebeast had stolen her breath away by the way of fear, and had just given it back. There were little beads of sweat perched on her face, and she wiped them away with one forepaw.

The other vermin were crouched around Skalrag, his eyes dimmed, but not clouded over like they did when he died. His body was bent unlike it should have. Hisk examined him closely.

"His spine is broken from the fall."

Badrang muttered under his breath, most likely cursing, and then whispered in Hisks' ear. The other vermin nodded, a smile beginning to grow on his face. Silently, he began to head back to the fire pit, the flames flickering hungrily, unfed for a while. Badrang began to speak aloud in a harsh voice.

"Where are you? If you do not come out, I will lop all of their heads off, and cut down all of the trees surrounding us.

"I will decide your fate. If you are lucky, you and your friends may all travel in my company-as slaves.

"Another choice would be to leave them here, stranded, no ability to move or get food, though they don't need it, and take you as a slave.

"And, if I don't like you at all, I may decide to lop off your head, or leave you wounded so that, if you were still living, you would be classified as 'dead'.

"It is your choice- the sooner you come down, the better your condition will be."

_The lopsided, lunatic, lazy, lopsided, little lettuce leaf! I can't let him take us. I have to tell the Council. And if I'm his slave, I can't very well tell them, can I?_

Rose did some mental calculations, remembering that she was short on time. Already Hisk was picking up a sword.

What if…..

Quickly she whipped a stone out of the pouch, loaded it into her sling, and aimed it through a small hole in the dense forest of green leaves. She fired it, her target unaware of the danger.

Without a cry, Hisk fell down, the sword clattering to the ground, his eyes dimming over.

Badrang, momentarily confused, looked at him.

"Hisk, you had better get up, or I may give you a flogging."

Without a word, Rose fitted another stone to her sling, and found her target.

"Hisk, I mean it!" Badrang's voice was menacing, and he started to kick at Hisk, when, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Boggs tumble to the ground. His eyes hardened.

"Boggs! Stop napping and get up!" he barked at his horde member.

Rose knew it wasn't going to be long until he figured it out, and quickly took out her last target.

Gurrad fell to the ground nearby, and Badrang was close enough to hear the soft, short _thunk_ as the pebble hit the horde associate.

Badrang looked around suspiciously, and nudged Boggs with a footpaw. No sound emitted from the creature.

While he checked on Gurrad, Rose quickly began to clamber down the tree. Momentarily, she saw Martin, whose keen eyes detected her movement, and shook his head slightly. Nevertheless, she continued her climb downwards.

By the time she was nearing the ground, Badrang was in the act of rolling Hisk over, just in case.

She landed with a small _thump_ on the ground, and darted around the tree trunk as Badrang swiveled his head around the circle of trees.

She rummaged as quietly as she could in her knapsack, searching for something. At last, while Badrang eliminated some of the trees that she could possibly be in, she found her paw-stone.

"Tnegru, swen - Eertkcorb ot Esor." Speaking this in a minute whisper, she looked around. By now, about a quarter of the trees around the clearing were left from Badrangs' elimination.

The rock began to glow, and a face, however small, appeared. It started to speak, but Rose held a paw to her lips.

"Shhhh. I need to tell you something, and am in grave danger."

"Danger? How?"

"Vermin escaped from Hellgates. Trentilis must not have closed one of the gates properly."

"Vermin? Great. Just wonderful. First all of these dibbuns to look through, and now this!"

By now, only five possible trees remained.

"Badrang is here, Brocktree! He's coming-he and four others got the other expedition members tied up, including Martin. I've taken four down with stones, thrown from my sling. Badrang has three trees left. No-two. I have to go."

"I'll see to this. Farewell, Rose."

"Eertckorb, uoy ot emas." Quickly, the glow faded, and she hurriedly dropped the stone back in, and withdrew a dagger. Brocktree was headed towards the tree she was at, a sword at his side. Again, she put the dagger back in, and, instead, drew out a dirk. Martin had taught her how to use it, just in case. Quickly, she looped the stone-pouch into her belt, and slid the sling between her tunic and woven leather belt. Without a word, she set the sack up between two branches, where Badrang's searching eyes wouldn't look, and slipped around the trunk as he traveled around it.

She strode into the clearing, making it look as though she had come from a different tree, right behind the prisoners, just in case, and concealed her dirk, removing the hoods from the creatures' heads.

Ducking behind Boars' massive form, the only one un-hooded, she hid as Badrang came into view, after looking at the tree she had just come from thoroughly. With a look of both fury and surprise, he noticed the hooded beasts, and let a howl rip from his mouth.

"Come out and face me, whoever you are! Come, you cur!"

The remark stung Rose, but she merely started to untie Boars' hood. Gnoff opened his mouth, which Rose had also un-gagged, but a piercing glare from Methuselah silenced him.

With little noise, the hood slid from the badgers' head, and Badrang looked at the great Badger Lord.

"Who untied you?" He demanded.

"Ah, my stinkin' stoat, that is unanswerable. Why should the likes of us tell the likes of you whom un-_hooded_ us. Besides, we weren't untied. Have you no eyes, are you blind, or can you just not use them properly?" Gonff's voice was cordial enough, but the words were meant to give out blows.

"That is because you are my prisoners, and I won't hesitate te immobilize you." His blue eyes bored into Gonff's, and the mousetheif didn't flinch, allowing Rose to slip around a few trees.

A few moments before revealing herself to the stoat, Martin caught her eyes with his, and pleaded her, silently, to not go and sacrifice herself. He did not know about the dirk.

She sent him a look, full of bitter sadness that she must do this, and love for him. And, breaking the connection, she stepped into full view of the villain.

* * *

Emerald and Nightsnow were within the tent, Emerald mostly standing guard, for the black fox was always hunted, or so he made it seen, by assassins. 

"Now, slave, you know about the Abbey in Mossflower, with red sandstone walls?"

Nightsnow merely nodded, her eyes kept downcast, as though she knew that Oveline wanted respect from her, as her master.

"Tell me about this place, called Redwall. Who may be in there, what matter of beasts there are, what weaknesses there may be about this mighty fortress.

"Tell me."

* * *

Sandunal saw Nightsnow, forced to reveal items of information about the abbey-her home- to this lunatic of a fox. Stranger still, a squirrel with emerald eyes and red-gold fur standing guard, its' ears pricked for information. She would have thought that the squirrel was loyal to the fox, alone from the fact that it was standing guard, but for the flames that leapt within the gem-like orbs, filled with rebellion and hatred for the fox, steadily growing. A spark that could light a flame, that could easily roar with intensity. 

_**That is the one prophesized**_ Martin spoke. Sandunal, strangely, could also see flickers of what was going on where he was.

Sandunal looked ever onward in the scene, her loathing for the fox growing. How dare he take her cousin slave! She needed revenge.

_How can I help her?_

_**By playing your part in this part of your life. You need to ally with the rat, Dobane, and convince him to let his slaves fight in this war. They will do so, as Dobane isn't creul like the others are; he feels the need to have slaves, as not many rats will be recruited to help him , and there aren't enough to help the slaves. Some do, though, of their own free will. The others are punished by it.**_

Sandunal spoke to Martin once more. _Martin, could we go back? I feel as though you need to do something, and I think that my captor is taken down._

_**Yes. We will go.**_

Before she left the scene, the squirrel looked directly at her, and winked, eyes turning momentarily jolly. Looking beside Sandunal, whom was dumbfounded, she bowed her head slightly, respect shining within them.

And then Sandunal felt Rosilla's arms, and her voice.

"Sandunal? Are you alright? I- I killed your captor."

Sandunal opened her eyes fully, and let Rosilla pull her up. The black eyes stared into hers.

"I know who the murderer is."

* * *

Emerald saw the two mice, one female, one male. She recognized the male; it was Martin. Though she didn't know the female, she sensed that she was of Nighstnow's kin. 

Soon, Nightsnow was finished with her dealing of information, breathing a little heavier than usual.

"So…you and the squirrel may return to your tent. Also, I am having a feast, in a few days. Squirrel, you need to be able to do something else. Tell me, and you must be fairly good, what else can you do?"

"I can play the flute."

"Fine. Tell the other two."

With that, the two slaves were dismissed.

"What do you think that was all about?" Nightsnow asked Emerald, whose eyes were colder than usual.

Slowly, Emerald took out the flute, and, looking up to the sky, where the first stars were beginning to appear, she answered.

"Oveline is planning to attack Redwall.

"We must tell the others." With that, she broke into a run.

"Well, then, I suppose I shant tell my story tonight." Nightsnow murmured to herself, and trotted off after the squirrelmaid.

* * *

A/N: I found the ruler button. Much better, in my opinion, than my regular divider. I like it. Thank you to all who read this. 


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I'm sorry that I took so long. I'll blame it on me, and a stinkin' writer's block. I only just got rolling with it two days ago, and I got up early today to finish it up.

I probably won't be doing _anything_ for the next few days, as in reviewing/updating, because of other issues. Starting at after lunch for me.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 20:

Sandunal struggled to get herself up, arms straining, but Rosilla gently pushed her back, even though they were still on the stone stairs.

"No, no, not yet. You've been out for some time, and aren't strong enough." Rosilla looked at her half-sister, noting her still-misty eyes, which she took for the effect of her period of unconsciousness.

"I can get up, I really can." She still struggled, and managed to turn over and get into a push-up position, arms shaking, soaked in perspiration.

"You aren't strong enough!"

Sandunal looked at Rosilla, a wry smile playing on her muzzle. "Well then, can I at least get somewhere comfortable?"

"Oh……"The mousemaid trailed off. "I guess."

Sandunal laughed softly, if a little raspy-ish. "Well, I'm getting weaker all the while, and will soon need assistance if I am not to hit my chest against the edges of these stairs."

Rosilla shook herself out of her trance, and got to the task that needed her attention. Gingerly she picked up the grey-eyed mousemaid, and grunted. "You're heavier than you seem."

Sandunal simply grinned.

Rosilla slowly descended the stone steps, and gingerly stepped over the body of Sandunal's captor, her sister limply hanging in her arms, eyes closed.

Soon, they were at the enterance of the stairs, and Sandunal opened her eyes to see that the door was open and there was a light inside. Apparently, Rosilla saw this too, and placed Sandunal carefully on the floor.

"Wait here and _do not move_." She whispered, tip-pawed to the opening, and peered around the door. Sandunal, still in a bit of a woozy state, was a bit confused with this action, but did not say anything, nor waste her energy on the act of trying to stand up. She was always this weak after passing out, hating every minute of her helplessness, and went to great lengths to avoid passing into unconsciousness.

Rosilla drew back suddenly, and stumbled back towards Sandunal. "Its' _him_! We need to get out of here, else he finds out that we're in this place."

Sandunal nodded agreement, and then paused, whispering even lower that Rosilla had. "But how? I'm too heavy to carry up the stairs, and we couldn't get past whoever is in there without him noticing. Besides," the mousemaid asked, "Who is _he?_"

Anger blazed in dark eyes, a strange thing to notice and witness inside of her black orbs. "My son's killer. The one I am sworn to take revenge upon. The one called _Levirkad_." She spat out the word as though it was a foul taste on her tongue.

"Well, we'll have to stay her for now, as it'll take me about fifteen minutes to get back to normal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Experienced this about three times before, all when I was young. This tallies up to four times total."

"Great." Rosilla moaned softly. Both were still aware of the danger shuffling in their room, and lapsed into silence. They felt as if time was dragging through molasses purposely, to make the suspense feel tight in the air, ready to snap at any moment.

"Rosilla?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"This time it was different from the rest."

"What is 'it'?"

"My falling unconsciousness."

"Oh. How so?"

"The first three times, I was beaten into that, and expected to get up right afterwards and get to work. I could never do so. Soon, they decided that they shouldn't beat me so hard-else I would never be able to do the work. Several times afterwards though, they did it so hard that I would see black spots and nearly crumple to the floor afterwards."

Rosilla was silent. She knew who 'they' were, and there was no need to say their names.

"But this time? I didn't pass out because of pain. I didn't pass out because a knock on the head. I didn't pass out because of fear. I passed out because Martin the Warrior was going to show me how my cousin was doing, and where she was."

"Who is this 'Martin the Warrior', and does that mean that you passed out of your own free will?"

"Yes, I did pass out of my own free will. Who is Martin? Martin is one of Redwall's founders, one of the warriors who freed Mossflower from the cruel tyrant, Tsarmina of the Thousand Eyes, and ruler of Kotir. He suffered great injuries, and in doing so, forgot much of his past. We don't know what really happened after he was captured, or who he was captured by. We don't know why he didn't marry-but we do think that something tragic happened to him. Though there has been records of two travelers coming to Redwall, and telling Martin's story to us. I'll just need to go through them if we get back to Redwall."

"What species was Martin?"

"Mouse, like the two of us."

"And what do you mean by 'we'?"

Sandunal looked up, mildly surprised. "I thought that if we got out of here that you would come to my home with me."

Rosilla was silent for a while. "Sure. I have nothing left that I love in the Juskablitht tribe. Nothing. I will go with you if I am able. First, though, I want to know how your cousin is."

Sandunal's face darkened. "She is slave to a fox. He was asking her about my home earlier, and, if I am right, he wants to get the information to attack our Abbey. As far as I know, he is using a slave, strangly, to stand guard. I think that the slave and my cousin are in the same boat, as far as conditions go. They look well fed and unhurt, but I think that they are only an acception to the others. The squirrel, for that was the other slave, looked at the fox with a new hate-I am thinking that he had gone foul on her and the other slaves recently. But the strange thing was that Martin and I were basically just very vague figures in the air, only seen if you looked hard at us, but she just glanced at us and saw us. The squirrel."

"What was your cousin's name?"

"Nightsnow. She is white-furred with a drop-shaped patch of black fur on her forehead."

"Who do you think that squirrel is?"

Sandunal answered truthfully. "I am not sure, but I believe that she has to do with the prophecy that was told to Redwall earlier."

"What was it?"

"You seem full of questions right now." Sandunal gave her a grin, but continued nonetheless.

"A slave from the south, high as sky,

Will come to blood-red walls.

Grave news she will bring, of Evil One's plans,

Of conquest of twin bells.

The one with two whites,

Will stay to spy,

And help in greatest need.

That beast is the warrior,

Of which we've been waiting for,

To lift the sword to revenge.

So look to the south,

And wait for the first,

When summer reigns again.

And when seed-cases fall,

The army will run,

And warrior will come."

"I-" Rosilla stopped quickly and held a claw to her lips. Sandunal breathed softly, and heard the soft padding of pawsteps, drawing closer to the door. Tenderly, she drew a knife, taken from her dinner silverware.

Rosilla saw the action and nodded ruefully. At least Sandunal had been prepared. She hadn't been.

They saw a shadow come closer to them, going to peek around the door. "I'll distract him. You sneak around and get a weapon." Sandunal whispered through gritted teeth, so that Rosilla only would hear. The Juskablitht mousemaid nodded her head, biting her lip a bit. It was a very hard plan to take out, not as simple as just saying it.

They slowly stood, and Rosilla crept to lurk in the dark corners, ready to get around her son's murderer.

Levirkad stepped out into the small chamber, where several halls went from it. "Where are you, my birds? I have a need of you."

Sandunal remained standing by the door, knife concealed, but ready if needed to be used.

The ferret stopped, and stood still. The mousemaids dared not breath while he was silent. He took a few more steps, this time into the center of the circle-shaped chamber, as small as it was.

"Come and get me, vermin. Come." Sandunal muttered under her breath. She wasn't a good fighter, but she at least knew how to defend herself.

Levirkad fell extremely quiet, turning slowly, in the direction where Sandunal had spoken.

Rosilla took that moment to, as his back was turned to her, dash to the nearest dark hallway. Her paws made no sound, but she stumbled in an unexpected lurch in the ground at the last moment, barely making it to be cloaked in the darkness before he swept his eyes around, searching for the noise that he had heard, soft as it was.

Sandunal, having an idea, quietly ran to the next dark corridor, making a little noise, so that Rosilla, who caught onto the plan, could escape to the next hallway. On and on this went, until Rosilla was in the passageway next to their bedroom door. She had to go deeper into the corridor in order to make sure that the light did not unveil her presence, because of the extra light streaming from the next room.

As the vermin turned towards her, confusion, anger, and impatience in his eyes, yellow streaks seeming to swell further, until the brown was the threads, and the yellow dominated most of the space.

Sandunal slipped to the next corridor, and yelled out, "OY! C'ME 'ERE, YOU LUMBERIN' OAF!"

Angrily, albeit a bit surprised, he turned around, and started in Sandunal's direction, strides wide with fury. She stuck out her tongue at him, made a face, and ran a little ways. When he didn't seem to be breaking his stride to run at her, she yawned, and tapped her footpaw. Once he got too close for comfort, she ran away from his shaking paws.

Meanwhile, Rosilla slid into the room, where their food still was. Silently, she looked amongst the silverware. The rest of the knifes were dull, the spoons really couldn't be used, as they were too lightweight, but the forks were satisfyingly sharp at the prongs. She took the two of them, plus the salad fork, and slipped back out.

She heard the shouts of Sandunal and followed them, now and then accompanied by a frustrated growl from Levirkad.

"Ahhhh, how're you doing? I don't think you are doing all that well. You're frothing a bit at the mouth, and your eyes are bloodshot."

Rosilla broke into a job, grinning a little at Sandunal. _She must be putting her best into it. Seems like she's having fun, though._

And fun she was having.

Her face was sympathetic looking, and she was jogging backwards. "Your legs are cramping, aren't they? You poor dear! I tell you what-we can take a pit stop. Or at least you can. You need rest bad, don't you? You're wheezing-must be the old age combined with this exercise-, You're steps are faltering a little-leg muscles must be un-stretched, that's what happens when you don't take a little stretch before running-and you haven't caught me yet! Very bad shape, I say. Perhaps this will do a bit of good for you, Grandpa!"

He let out a low, strangled growl-like noise, and increased his speed, as did Sandunal, still doing what she was already at the moment.

"Noooooooo, you musn't growl, makes you sound like one of those angry lunatics," She paused her speaking, and looked at him, weighing his looks and actions. "That is, unless you already _are_ one!"

Rosilla finnaly caught up, and Sandunal paid her no attention. She mustn't let him know that another creature was behind him at the moment, raising what looked like a sharpened trident, paw-sized, over a shoulder, breaking out in a sweat.

With a swift movement, Rosilla brought her paw down, prongs downward, into a little dip between his collarbone and his neck, on his right side.

He screamed hard, and collapsed on the ground.

But Rosilla, in her anger, didn't stop there-

She raised the fork again.

And brought it down.

---

Ffindle woke to a face peering over him, and he groaned.

Sister Amiel. He must be in the Infirmary.

The Sister, though, took this for a sign of pain. "Ah! You're awake! Don't worry, you didn't get as big of a bump as I thought you would have, after hitting the floor like that. Lucky you didn't split your head open, doing what you did."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," He mumbled, and panicked a little as he saw a small wooden jar tipped over a small spoon, some syrupy looking material coming out of the jar. "I really am fine, I don't need any ton-glllrrrrick!" He was stopped talking by the Sister, who had just heaved a spoonful of pain tonic into his open mouth, and she turned around to put the jar back in her cupboard.

There was a gagging noise, then the sounds of one spitting out something extremely revolting reached her ears.

"Now, Ffindle!" She twirled around to see the hare straighten up again, and hide something that looked like a cup under the bed. "Did you spit out that tonic?"

"Of course not!" Though she didn't see the gesture, Ffindle crossed and uncrossed two of his claws when he said 'not'.

"Then how come I heard you spit it out?" She had her paws on her hips and was glaring at her patient.

With a straight face, he answered, "I don' know, ma'am; you must've bally well been 'earin' things."

There was a strangled cry of fury and a short yelp, accompanied by a loud and wet sounding _splat!_ that the Abbot heard below. At the time, he was in his room, packing an extra wear of clothing into the very bottom of a medium-sized knapsack. Now, he set these aside, and calmly set up the stairs to the infirmary.

He opened the door and saw Amiel struggling with herself, nose quivering in anger, and Ffindle cowering under the covers, a small and dripping green mess on the wall above him.

"Amiel, will you let Ffindle out of the infirmary without injuring him?"

"Yea, Abbot, I will." There was a strain in her voice, and a vein stuck out on her neck. "In fact, I implore you to get rid of him for me."

"Ffindle, you need to pack."

The hare got out of the bed quickly, and sent a scared glance at the sister who was glaring at him fiercely.

As they left the infirmary, Merrick turned to Ffindle and gave him a questioning look, and got a mumbled, in-comprehendible answer back. The Abbot turned back around and resumed walking, Ffindle following behind.

As they approached the Abbot's room, he turned back to Ffindle. "We'll get the provisions later. For now, pack an extra change of clothing and a cloak. A weapon if necessary."

Ffindle walked off again, jovial mood gone. He was on a mission now, and it was only him and Father Abbot.

Perilous and Leader.

And a mischevious little sparrow.

---

Mariel opened her eyes, and her vision swam, causing the mousemaid to immediately close them again, and a pulsing headache preformed a steady beat in her head.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and the mousemaid opened her eyes again. A gauzy-looking blue filled her eyes, and she blinked.

Still there.

She then sat up, and closed her eyes in the process of getting up. When she opened them again, she nearly leapt from the bed with one of her pillows to beat on the next creature to come in.

She had just seen a young male ferret's face peek into the…..was it a room?...Through a doorway, concealed by a door the same color as the rest of the room was. The mousemaid thought about the recent past that she remembered, and nearly groaned in frustration.

One word- Hellgates.

She had nearly forgotten the predicament that she was in at this place. She didn't know where she was at the moment, though. She remembered nothing of getting into the fortress- only of crying, and then suddenly opening her eyes to see _this_.

The door creaked a little, and she snapped back to the present. Slowly, with as little noise she could muster, she crept behind the door with a medium-sized pillow, and as the door swung shut, she leapt with a hoarse cry of "Redwall!" and brought the pillow from over her head onto the other creature.

The other, a female ferret, by the looks of it, and once a corsair judging from the one hoop earring in her left ear. There was a loud _twump!_ as the soft, feather-filled pillow collided with the ferret's head, knocking her off balance.

The ferret fell hard, barely managing to stop hitting her head on the cold stone floor, and splitting it open. Before she had a chance, Mariel had dropped the pillow, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, dragged her to the door, and opened it. In addition to her paw already holding the scruff of her opponent's neck, she picked the ferret up fully by grabbing the back of her shirt, and threw her out the door by swinging the still-stunned beast back, and then forward, realeasing on the latter.

The ferret flew into the other room, which, luckily for the ferret, was open just by chance. As Mariel shut her own door behind her, there was a muffled thump, and silence. Then a long bout of swearing came out of the open doorway, and Mariel closed the door to the room her opponent had just flown into, and, after searching around a bit, found a small piece of stone that had broken off, and shoved it into the side of the door, closest to the doorknob.

While Mariel fled down the hallway, she heard silence, then the jiggling of a door which will not open, and shouting-

"What's th' matter with ya, ya stupid door! Why arn' ya openin'? It's shut. IT'S SHUT! Can't get i' open! Wai'- SOMEBEAST SHOVED A ROCK INTA THE GAP! OOOHH, THE THRICE BLASTED MOUSE! I'M GUNNA RIP OUT 'ER TOUNGE AN' MIX IT IN WI' TH' FOOD FER THE WRONGDOERS, AND TEAR TH' ARMS O 'ERS OUT O' 'ER SOCKET'S AND USE 'EM T' SLAP 'ER BACKSIDE! I'M GUNNA-"

Mariel never found out what else she was going to do, for then, there were two beasts running up the stairway, oblivious to her presence. She chuckled as she continued down, and heard the beast's voices.

"Don't worry Romsca, it'll be fine. We'll get you out, I promise." A voice was heard, unmistakably a mouses'. A giggling was heard, and another ferrety voice sounded loudly.

"Ah, Romsca, got yerself trapped then by a mouse? Strange, isn't it? Yet it's no wonder; Anybeast could trick you."

"Stoppit, Veil! Yer nex' in line, after th' mousemaid!"

"Really? Well, do ye know where yer other hoop is?" By this time, she was nearly on the third floor.

"YOU LIDDLE THIEF! YA TOOK IT, AN' I KNOW IT!"

Just in time, Mariel saw a huge shadow that unmistakably belonged to Trentilis, and ducked onto the landing as the wolverine rounded the curve of the stairway. As he passed, he stopped a little near the third floor, but kept on going.

She waited a full half minute to make sure that he was gone, and then quietly sneaked down the stairs, still half listening to the conversation, now with Trentilis joined in.

"Where's Mariel?"

"Sir," That Romsca ferret seemed to be out by now, "she locked me in here."

There was silence, and then his voice rang out again. "She did?" The wolverines' voice concealed a barely withheld laughter.

"Yah! She _ambushed _me after I came in when Veil, the dirty thief, told me that she was awake. With a pillow! An' then she threw me into the room I just came out of, and shut me in. Dunno where she is now, though."

"Sire?" the mouse was speaking now, if a little hesitant.

"Yes, Rathin?"

"There was a mousemaid passing us down on the stairs, coming from this level. I barely noticed her."

Silence.

"MARIEL!!!" The floor shook before her paws

The mousemaid in question flinched, and continued her flight down the stairs, seeking escape from Trentilis.

Soon, though, she was only at the second floor, and she heard Trentilis's pawsteps thunder down the steps.

So she had to change tactics.

No more be-quiet-and-they-won't-notice-me. They already knew where she was heading

Run.

Throwing caution to the winds, she proceeded to dash down the stairs as fast as she could without falling down them.

But still, Trentilis was drawing nearer.

She caught a glimpse of the first floor, and sped up a little. She had to get there _before_ Tretilis caught up.

Behind her, Trentilis called out a name to one, if there was one, below. The name was strange to speak, and spoke of the unknown to Mariel.

"Thairsil! Mariel!"

She had no clue why he spoke her name, but she soon found out.

Another ferret, a pretty silver one, suddenly was at the entrance to the stairway. _Why all the ferrets_? Mariel thought. _Is there any other vermin species around here?_

The ferretmaid spoke in a slow voice as she continued to block the staircase, every second drawing nearer to Mariel as the mousemaid hurtled towards her.

"Mariel of Redwall, please STOP!"

Mariel replied by speeding up. Around two seconds or more and she would knock the beast blocking her way down.

Swiftly, the ferret held up a small orange stone that pulsed occasionally, and stared at Mariel.

A split-second later, she collided with the ferret.

And fell back on the steps with a thump.

She closed her eyes in defeat. So, so close to freedom……and she was caught in the act of escaping.

Mariel heard heavy pawsteps a few moments later, and Trentilis's voice.

"Used the _pedra da lava_, then?"

"There was no other way of stopping her, Trentilis. She was determined, and I'm not the kind for brute strength. That's your job."

The wolverine gave a small chuckle.

Mariel opened her eyes again, and saw a small flash of white fur, pass over her eyes, then closed them again.

_Once he picks me up……I'll….I'll…. __**do**__ something to him. Anything._

And as he tried to pick her up, she snapped her head around and tried to bite him, but was blocked by some powerful, invisible shield that caused her head to bounce back in colliding with the force.

"Mariel, you should know better than to do that by now!"

She had an impulse to grin, but resisted it, and ignored him.

"Who do you think she is?"

"_A profecia do Pedra-Olho._"

There was silence, then the ferret-maid hissed.

"What?"

"You-I'll tell you later. Get her back to the bedroom. Hurry." She paused. "Somebeast called. Gotta go."

In a flash of orange light, she was gone.

---

Badrang had not seen her yet, as she walked a few paces towards him, pulling the hood of her cloak up as she did so. Better keep him guessing. It might, as strange as it seemed, buy time for her.

"Badrang."

He whirled around, and caught sight of the strange beast before him. Small, and hooded, no doubt easy to overtake. Nice matireal, though, for a slave.

"Ye decided te show yerself, then, shrew?" Looked like a shrew, sounded like a shrew. Never did like shrews, Badrang.

Rose barely contained her laughter. Shrew? Badrang must've gone even more crazy since they have lived. Alright, then, she'd play his game. Almost. But she was not going for shrew.

"Sorry, but I'm not a _shrew_."

His eyes widened unexpectedly. "But….But….. He…He….sent _you_ out to get me?" He paused, and grinned wickedly, though his eyes still betrayed his fear. "Well, then, Thairsil, to the death."

Rose had no idea who 'Thairsil' was, but it must be somebeast he feared and detested all the same.

"Badrang, we can't fight to the death."

"Well, then, m'ferret, to the capture."

"Of course."

They began to circle each other, unaware that a new figure had appeared at the edge of the forest, watching the two make battle.

The beast couldn't intervene.

It was their battle, and theirs alone.

All the beast could do was hope the cloaked beast won.

But upon seeing the beasts unconscious around it, and those tied up, it knew what it had to do.

With a cry, the two opponents met, sword upon dirk, and the stoat kicked at the cloaked one, who jumped back. As Badrang swung the sword at the other's arm, the maid fell to the ground, and kicked out with both legs at the 'vermin', arms supporting her weight. It wasn't the best, and only made him stumble back awkwardly, giving the maid time to get up. As the hood had fallen off earlier, and while the stoat was distracted into regaining balance, the mousemaid jerked the hood back over her head. Without a sound, they began to circle one another, both of their thoughts running wild within their heads.

Badrang knew a few things about the ferret. She wouldn't have jumped back once he kicked at her. She would've grabbed his footpaw. His leg. Though the kick was most likely one of the things she would've done, he wasn't sure anymore if it was her. And if he said her name and the beast in combat with him wasn't the ferret…at least he didn't say _his_ name. He had to find out if this beast was Thairsil…..or otherwise.

Rose saw the new suspicion enter Badrang's eyes, and knew that her disguise, put upon her by the stoat himself was being questioned. She had to be careful now….very careful

And who was Thairsil the ferret?

Was she one of the Lord of the Ever-burning Fire's minions?

Good or Evil?

Rose clenched her teeth, and got ready for the upcoming attack.

A few more rounds passed, and, placing a paw upon a strange symbol over the vermin Hisk's heart, the stranger held a curious stone in the other paw and muttered a few words. There was a faint glow, and Hisk disappeared.

The stranger looked up, and saw the beasts charging at one another yet again. It had seen the mousemaid, and recognized her from the extra manuscripts that a helper of Trentilis sent down every once in a while.

_A Maid, quite beautiful, arrived at the gates today, a lump on her head and her spine aching from the reason she died. When Brocktree asked who she was, she simply said,_

_"Where's Martin? Where am I?" She had a pretty voice, now filled with confusion._

_Then she had caught sight of the gates, and the creatures inside of it._

_"I'm dead, aren't I?"_

_Brocktree had nodded, and, contrary to my prediction, as well as many other beasts, she did not cry, but yet asked another question._

_"Is Martin alive?"_

_"Yes, Mousemaid, we think he will survive."_

_Behind her came another pop, and a vermin, stoat, appeared behind her. The mousemaid backed away, and glared at him._

_"Ah, so I Killed ye, then? Good. Mousie might be coming along soon." The stoat cackled. As if triggered by his words, a figure, hazy, of Martin appeared before her._

_"Rose! Where are we?"_

_The mouse maid stepped up to him, taking care to push the stoat into the lava nearby. He toppled in with a splash, waving his arms frantically, and was gone._

_She had to be a Member._

_"Martin. I'm dead now."_

_The mouse, not yet here, started to nearly cry. "What do you mean Rose? What do you mean?"_

_"Badrang killed me."_

_"Well, then, I'm coming with you."_

_"NO! Martin, don't you understand?" Tears were now filling her eyes. "You have to go on. Without me, this time. I died for you. It is not your time to die, you have roads ahead of you. Perhaps," Her tone softened. "Perhaps you will find somebeast else to love."_

_Martin shook his head. "No. Never. If there is one thing that I will never do, is love another. I still love you."_

_Rose, for that was her name, lifted her face towards him. "We will meet again. But you need to die of old age-Or in battle, fighting for others. But do not kill yourself. You are a Hero."_

_And he was gone, with a few words hanging in the air._

_"I am not a hero, Rose. I have not earned that privilege._

_"You are. And I love you."_

_The mouse Rose turned around, and quietly said, "I am ready."_

_The gates opened, and she went in._

_I think that my friend would like her if she ever met her._

Later, there was another account concerning this 'Rose', but the stranger never remembered this. Something about a new name.

It looked up at the fighters again, as it had bowed its' head in rememberance. Badrang was lifting the hood-she had no time to get to every single escaper.

So it cried a harsh word and lifted the stone, just as realization of dawned on his face of who the mouse was.

"You!" he snarled, and , reacting to the harsh sounds, turned towards the stranger, fear and anxiety etched upon his face and in his eyes.

There was a loud bang as orange light flashed from a stone held high, and three flashes of light were echoed where the other vermin had lay, and in Badrang's case, stood.

Rose saw a ferret maid in the gloom, and called out to her without warning. "WAIT!"

The ferretmaid paused, and replied. "What do you need?"

"A few questions answered, and then a favor." Rose was now standing nearer to the ferretmaid.

"Please hurry then, I need to get back."

"First, are you Thairsil?"

The ferret nodded?"

"Second, could you untie the others with your.." Rose searched for the right words, and then whispered something to her, and the ferret brightened a little.

"So you know its' true name? Well then, yes, right now." Suddenly, the bonds and stakes were gone, as well as the hoods. The expedition members stood free.

"Third, could I go with you?"

There was surprise in the silver ferret's eyes, and anguish in Martin's.

"NO, ROSE!"

"Why do you want to come?"

Rose grinned impishly. "Well, there is the matter that you just saved my life, as well as my friends. And Mariel will need a bit of help restraining."

Thairsil nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. Well then,"

She was cut short by Martin, who slammed into Rose. "Why, Rose, Why?"

"Because I need to, Martin. Mariel will need some encouragement in trusting Trentilis and the others. I don't believe that Trentilis is unkind, or cruel, just that he was putting on a show when he threw the dart at you. I need to help them."

"I'm coming with you!"

"No, Martin! Listen, my pack is in one of the trees. And Martin, I really still do love you."

With that, the two maids were gone, leaving Martin to stare at the spot where they vanished, tears still in his eyes, as he thought a single-worded question that he thought many times before-

_Why?_

---

The flames of a fire jumped and cartwheeled as they lit up a small circle of beasts sitting before it, on small mats woven with strips of cloth, brought in by the slave dealer, whom Emerald was sold from, it seemed, so long ago. Sky held a skinny, but long and semi-straight stick with a pointed end basically in the flames. The stick sported a few vegetables, and a few chunks of white meat, half cooked.

"So, Emerald, what does the 'Esteemed Master' want from us? What did he want from you two?"

This had been their first chance to talk since Nightsnow and Emerald had returned from Oveline's tent, as his food needed to be cooked perfectly, and they themselves needed food. And then, Emerald had snuck down to the new 'slave pit' and given them as much as she could-she had carried a large stock pot of supposed 'leftovers' into the slave pit, challenging the vermin guarding with her eyes, who gulped and pretended that they hadn't seen her. They feared her, which gave the squirrel an advantage that usually wasn't found in vermin hordes.

Many of the slaves cursed her, because she didn't have to work her fur off, but there were some that understood why. All of them, though, accepted the food, which really wasn't scraps, but a full-out stew.

They had only had a cup of water and a few vegetables each. Emerald saw, though, that there wasn't enough for all of them to have standard portions. They needed more.

"Ah, Sky. Well, he does, from the sound of it, want to take over Redwall. Poor blokes, from what I've heard, there isn't much time of peace in between until some power-hungry warlord sets his or her eyes on that abbey, then goes to attack it. Same here with Oveline.

"Of course, many think that there are only peace-loving creatures that lurk within and are aided by warrior tribes from around them. Oveline thinks the same.

"There, we have an advantage. Nightsnow has blended in the truth with the myths about Redwall, and Oveline swallowed it all. She did not say that there were warriors, born and raised there, and battle-hardened. She did not say that they know how to survive siege. She did not say that they had potential weapons."

"Where do we come in, Emer?"

She shook her head, a slight smile on her lips.

"Haven't a real plan yet. I need your guys's help for that. I am horrible at doing that. Not much of a strategist."

"Ah." Nauru fell into silence, as did the rest of them. For a while, the only close sound was the popping of wood being devoured by the flames.

"Wrrl, Emrld, wht 'lse d'd 'er talk 'bout?" Sky spoke through a great wad of half-chewed food, and Nightsnow, who was directly across from her, wrinkled her nose.

"Sky-y!"

"Whrt?"

Emerald hid a grin, and then answered Sky. "At the end, he told us that he had a feast in a few days, and that he wants me to do something other than play tricks. Wonderful, isn't it?"

"What're you doin', Emer?"

"Flute playin'."

"But you could only play….." he trailed off.

"I've found it."

Nightsnow and Sky were looking back and forth between the siblings, so unlike each other, yet alike.

"Where?"

"Vermin had it."

Suddenly, Nauru was suspicious. "Emerald, why were you over there?"

Amused by this, the otter and mouse swivled to the squirrelmaid, awaiting her answer. There was something like a faint _glee_ on her face.

"Oh….no reason."

"Emerald, I know you. Don't make it as though I don't. I _know_ that you did something to them."

"I was only spying on them!"

"Emerald….."

"Fine. I was playing out the act of justice."

"How so? I can see that they are afraid of you. Anybeast could!"

"It's not because of that!" she snapped at him.

"Really, then what were you doing?"

"Relieving one rat of items won in gamboling."

"And….."

"And what?"

"What did you do with them?"

"Distributed the unjustly-won items amongst the other vermin's items in each of the places they usually put their items."

Nauru looked at her, three pairs of eyes following. The hazel and sky-blue eyes were filled with barely controlled mirth. But the third pair belonged to one who couldn't be seen by the three of them.

"Oh, _Emerald_," he moaned. "_**Why**_?"

"I was feeling in a bad mood. This is what helps me get _rid_ of bad moods. At least I was not in a worse mood."

"But why do th-"

"BACK TO THE SUBJECT, NAURU?"

There was grumbling, and then silence.

"Thank you. In about two more days after the feast of which Oveline is planning, it is the beginning of summer."

"So?"

"Sky, there is this riddle I received by this fellow named Martin. At least, I think it was Martin."

"Oh."

Silence.

"WELL, CAN'T Y'SAY IT ALREADY?"

"Alright. Here-

"_**ONE MUST FLEE,**_

_**FROM THE CAMP,**_

_**THE OTHERS STAY BEHIND, **_

_**WHEN SUMMER REIGNS AGAIN."**_

"But _who_ must flee?"

She looked at Sky, and quietly looked at her.

"I don't know. But what I do know is at least four things.

"1-Where the escaper is going to go. I don't know who he or she is, but their destination is ultimately the Abbey of Redwall.

"2-Who the escaper is. As I said before, this will be told to us later, most likely. Hopefully, at any rate.

"3-How we are going to get away with this. No clue- And Oveline acting the way he is is going to hamper the plan we need to make

"4-And why one had to escape. Obviously, they need to escape to warn the inhabitants of Redwall of the upcoming War. Why only one? It must be part of another prophecy he has planned. I have no other explaination for that.

"Any ideas?"

Nightsnow piped up. "A day or more will be spent traveling to Redwall. We'll need to get them a couple of days early. Before summer starts."

"But that's when the-"

"Exactly! That way, we can use the confusion of the feast to escape!"

"But the cliffs. We need to get past the cliffs."

Something clicked into place in Emerald's mind as she heard that. "I think," she said slowly, and all three of them looked at her, "That Sky should do it."

Sky turned pale under her fur. "But-Why-How-"

"You can get higher in the air than the rest of us, because of your skills you take delight in. There is no other way."  
"Yeah, but I can't jump _that_ high without being hoisted into the air by two others…." She trailed off.

"Exactly. We'll do it a few times beforehand, so they don't sense anything fishy." Nauru's voice was getting excited. "Just not as high. Then, afterwards, we'll do it."

"And then you need to run as fast as you can. We'll hide a water flask in your tunic."

Emerald started waving her paws. "We need to get the outline done first. Then we flesh it out. Who's got parchment?"

All four paws rose into the air.

"Alright. We'll need to go into the tent….just in case anybeast is listening." She glanced to her right for no apparent reason, and then nodded.

The squirrelmaid stood. "Come on! We've got to do this!"

As the four slaves went within the cooking tent, the pair of eyes followed them, grim, and hopeful.

They'd figured it out.

Good.

Now was just time to make sure everything went as Martin had wanted it.

---

Ffindle was woken by paws shaking his body.

"Ffindle, wake up. We need to go."

The hare rolled over to face the window, and groaned. "Bu' th' sun's no' u' ye'! Can' ge' u'."

"Yes Ffindle, you can! We've got to get up and get going before Sharalla forgets the entire thing!"

"Alrigh', I'm ge'in up, I'm ge'in up." As the Abbot left, Ffindle had a nearly irresistible urge to flop back down on the covers and sleep.

But the Abbot came back.

"Really," he remarked, seeing Ffindle's expression, "did you think I was going to leave you here with nice, warm covers?"

"No."

"Well, then, GET-UP!"

Ffindle grumbled all the more, but got up. He stretched, and, the Abbot watching him, picked up the tunic and belt he was wearing. He looked at the Abbot.

"A li'l privacy, eh?"

The door closed.

Hurridly, the hare changed, and donned the cloak that he had been given by Sandunal so long ago. Or was that when he departed Salamahosit? Either way, they were given to him by close friends.

Ffindle grabbed his rucksack, and opened the door. He tip-pawed out to see the Abbot, and, when motioned to, followed the 'Leader'.

Soon they were out in the crisp, and comfortably cool air. Already the horizon was beginning to orange, and the Abbot looked to the west, and whistled softly. The sparrow came towards them, fast, and they walked quickly towards the gate.

They had just gotten out when the sun rose.

It was time.

* * *

A/N: I won't be updating for a while, most likely. But I will try to get this next chapter done earlier than this one. Again, I apologize. Also, the next chapter will be a few days afterwards. Hopefully, I'll actually get this done. 


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:**

**I HAVNE'T DIED!!!**

**I am incredibally sorry for this long, long, long, long, eternal wait. I am not going to blame it on anything but myself, though I am proud to say that I wrote basically HALF of it today.**

**I hope I get reviews, but it serves me right if I don't.**

**Thanks for hanging on.**

* * *

Chapter 21:

It had been three full days since Rosilla had lost herself in anger, and had continued bringing the small fork down into Levirkad's flesh. Up and down…..all the while thinking of her son, so small, smaller even with his body curled up and his eyes wide, unblinking, and unseeing in death. So small, so young. A waste of life. And the _ferret_ had caused it, caused his death, even though he had been a little terror in life.

And even then, that little act of wildness and bloodthirst, she still thought she needed revenge, it wasn't enough. She wanted to strike him for every tear that had fallen from her eyes, for every second of sadness and anguish her son's death had caused. There would be no end to the hatred she felt towards him. Her blood, her son, her life. She wanted to _kill_ him.

But Dobane felt that Levirkad would welcome death, would welcome it so that the mousemaid, hysterical, would not cause him any more pain. So, after the two days of care from the fox healer, Jareth, and her daughter, Disiean, and his shoulder muscles healed, he was to be put to work as a slave, and the rats in his army that wanted to join Dobane's joined; the rest settled to either help the slaves, or they taught the members of Dobane's army new moves, exercises, and techniques. Rosilla was not allowed, though, to follow Levirkad around with a whip, though she did find out who struck the blow that stole her son's life.

She woke early, and saw Sandunal's bed empty already. They had been moved to one of the upper floors, so light shone dimly through the half-covered window to the east. Slowly, the mousemaid stood, and stretched, her arms above her head and her back arched inwards. She settled back into a standing position, and fell to her knees on the floor, hard-packed earth. Still half asleep, she shoved her paw under the bed and felt around for something to wear. Her paws brushed an unfamiliar texture; she frowned, and grasped it, pulling it from under the bed.

A tunic had found its' way under her bed, well made and worn. She looked closely at it, looking for signs of its owner's mark. Nothing was there, and even though she could see that the stitches were fine, and were rubbed a little hard in some places, causing the thread to looked slightly frayed. The mousemaid sniffed it, faintly smelling the salty scent of sweat, and a slight flowery perfume. She lifted her head, slowly, eyebrows lowered in confusion. Who's was this? Why was it under _her_ bed? She heard footpaws approaching the door behind her, which she had followed the individual grains in the wood countless times, and faced the door, still in her night-dress, holding the tunic. The door opened.

A rat stood there, a rat she had seen before, or at least heard, because when he saw the tunic in her arms, he spoke.

"Where did you find that?"

She raised her eyebrows, seeing the aggressiveness and resentment in his eyes. "Is this yours, then?"

"Answer my question first."

Her eyebrows climbed higher up her forehead.

He sighed. "Yes, they're mine. Where did you find them?"

"I found them under my bed, for some strange reason. Why would that be?"

"One of my friends stole it from me last night, and I haven't found them for a while. Did he hide them in here?"

"If he did, it was while we were asleep. And if he did hide them while we were asleep…tell me, can your friend step lightly, so light the floor doesn't quiver slightly?"

"I am aware that he can do close to that, yes. Why?"

"Because my sister," she gestured at the other bed a few pawsteps away," is a light sleeper; rarely anything can fail to wake her."

He looked at her, and she saw recognition dawn in his eyes. "Are you and your sister the ones found a little bit away from that mouse clan?"

"Yes. Why?"

"None are to enter your room without permission from yourselves or Dobane. I am sorry. I will leave."

"Well, if you need to, may you tell me your friends' name and where he might be at the moment."

"Sure. But why?"

She grinned. "I want to tell him that he shouldn't enter our room…. Is he aware of this rule?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. Now what is his name and location at this time?"

"Havokcause, and he is currently on duty pushing the new slave Levirkad."

"Thank you. That really makes my day, you know." Giving him a smile, she pressed the tunic into his paws, and, after he left, shut the door, diving under the bed for clothing. She knew Dobane wouldn't find out until, perhaps, tomorrow, for he was gone, summoned by some weird warlord.

Within a minute or two, she was out the door.

---

Sandunal wandered around the intricate web of tunnels and caves beneath the surface, memorizing them hopefully in her head. By the next day, for the last two days, though, she had forgotten most of them, so she kept coming back, just in case she would remember them again.

A pounding of pawsteps on the floor, quickly slapping the surface, echoed through the cavern. She stopped, listening. If she heard right, which was probably incorrect, as the sound would bounce off many surfaces, distorting the direction of which it was coming from, the beast was coming down the….was it the southeast?...passage, to her right and ahead slightly.

The intruder revealed itself, running madly down one of the passages, a grim light of determination radiating from its eyes.

Sandunal recognized it.

"HOLD UP! What're you doin' in these passageways down here? You know you aren't allowed down here!"

The beast ignored her.

"It's for your own safety!"

The beast stopped and looked at her, growling, "I don't care. I have got to do this. Don' care if she kills me!"

Sandunal shook her head. "She won't kill you. Besides, if they catch you away from the workplace, they'll let her torture you."

"Get outta my way, mousie, or I may have to push you against the wall!"

Suddenly, those voices erupted in Sandunal's head.

_Once a ferret, always a ferret._

_Don't let him do what one did to me!_

_Don't die…Don't share the same fate as her…Please…_

_Stay there. You won't die if you take him by surprise. But don't let him get you. DON'T._

Sandunal stood firm, crossing her arms. "I don't think you can do that, Levirkad."

He attempted to push her into the closest wall, but, as he came forward, she kicked him in the stomach

He staggered back, bent over double, clutching his midriff. Sandunal pushed him to the ground easily, overbalanced as he was. Stubbornly, before he could retaliate, she sat on his abdomen, and as he came up, trying to bend double again, she stuck her elbow out, causing him to go back, clutching his muzzle, hitting his head hard enough to knock himself out on the stone floor.

Lightly echoing footsteps, hard to hear, danced down the passageway, reaching Sandunal's ears. She stood, knowing that Levirkad wasn't going to get up very soon, and waited.

A rat, as usual, came running down the passageway, fast but light. Upon seeing Levirkad down on the floor, he slowed down.

"Gave me the slip. Knocked me down and ran." He muttered to no beast in particular, and, looking around the room, saw Sandunal.

"What're you doing out here? Mice don't go out here!"

She looked at him coldly. "What is your name?"

He snorted. "Yours before mine, missy."

"I asked yours first. Go on, tell me." She bristled slightly. 'Missy'? '**Missy**'? He was no older than she!

He sighed, giving in. "Havokcause. Yours?"

"Sandunal."

He looked at her for a moment, and then his eyes went wide. "You're not the one who hates him to Hellgates and back, are you?" he jerked a claw at the unconscious ferret.

She rolled her eyes. "No. That's Rosilla."

"And you're not those special guests…." He trailed off.

"Yeah, we are. Why so?"

"Nothing." He mumbled. It was clear he was hiding something.

"What'll happen to the ferret?"

Havokcause sighed. "I believe it has something to do with torture for hitting and resisting a guard, and torture by the…as he calls her, 'madmouse'…"

Sandunal resisted a grin. "She'll like that."

Pounding pawsteps raced down the stone hallway, and Sandunal pricked her ears, listening. She was good at listening while Rosilla wasn't as much so.

She recognized them.

"It's Rosilla."

The mousemaid ran into view, and caught sight of Sandunal. "Hey! Do you know where some rat called 'Havokgoose' is?"

The rat looked appalled.

"Right there." Sandunal pointed at him. "But his name is Havokcause, not Havokgoose."

"Alright." Walking over to the guard, she asked brightly, "Do you know where that-that-_ferret_- is?"  
He nodded.

"Where, then?"

"I may not tell you for the fear of killing him needlessly."

Her eyes, black already, seemed to darken. "No," she spat out. "I won't kill him. I'll do far, _far_ worse than that."

Sandunal rolled her eyes. "Rosilla, you'll get your chance. He tried to escape, but was stopped."

"Where is he?"

"You haven't seen him? Besides, you won't be able to vent your fury out on him. Yet."

Rosilla had spotted him, and was about to slap him awake when she stopped. "Yet?"

"Yet." Sandunal told her firmly. "Rule for him-tries to get away, he gets to spend some time with you."

Rosilla got up, and there was a strange light in her eyes. "Excellent." She faced the rat. "I know what you did last night."

Havokcause paled considerably.

"What'd he do?" Sandunal looked from one to the other.

"Went into the room. Without permission."

Sandunal waved a paw. "Pah! What's all this about permission?"

"We're not allowed to. It was dark and I wanted to hide Surnolit's tunic."

Sandunal frowned, creases creating little mountains on her brow. She had heard his name before…..

While she was pondering this, Rosilla was interrogating the rat."Who's Surnolit?"

"Thintail's brother."

"And who is Thintail?"

"Dobane's son."

Sandunal's head snapped up, eyes filled with comprehension. "Rosilla, you wouldn't have remembered this, you were nearly blind at the time, but those two rats who came to take us down to Shalla-"

"Sharalla." Rosilla interrupted.

"Sharalla, fine."

"Wasn't that the sparrow?"

They looked at Havokcause, and then at each other. Sandunal mouthed 'oops', and walked away.

Rosilla stalled. "Call me when it's time." She then pivoted on her heel, and walked in Sandunal's direction.

He watched them go in confusion, but quickly gave up on it. Besides, he had to drag the ferret back to the slave station- and then somebeast would help him carry him to _Il Pozzo di Grida_.

---

Mariel continued down the stone steps, where she had tried to escape only a few days earlier. Trentilis wanted to see her in the, if she had heard right, kitchens. Supposedly, he had something to show her, something that he thought she would enjoy seeing.

She thought not.

The Bellmaker's daughter was still wary of the large wolverine, and unsure of his intentions, especially after her attempted escape.

Briefly, she thought about escaping. There were prime conditions-nobeast in sight, no guards, none to witness her pulling open the oak doors that she had heard once of.

She dismissed the idea instantly.

There was no doubt that Trentilis had put guards on duty, or something of that strange force that had prevented her from escaping, and from harming the Lord of the Ever-Burning Flames.

She knew that, contrary to most of the vermin she had ever faced within her life among the living, he actually had brains to go with the whole vermin features. Strange, she thought, that they should have them.

Immediately, she felt prejudiced.

There was that one ferret…the silver one. She liked her, if only as an incredibly annoying (in her opinion) beast. That was for the way she had stood before Mariel, firm and unmoving, preventing her from escaping.

Paws dancing lightly on the smooth stones, wonderfully locked together in near-perfection, she looked within doorways, and sniffed for the aromas that usually came in the package of a kitchen.

Usually. Who knew what it would be like.

She peered into the doorway, and saw an amazing sight.

_There were woodlanders in the kitchens_.

Instinctively, she looked for chains binding them, but there were none, and all of them seemed healthy, some with bulging bellies.

She caught sight of the massive white boulder before he caught sight of her. Silently, she tip-pawed in, unnoticed by most of the others, and made her way over to the wolverine.

"Hello."

She nodded at him.

He turned to meet her. "So, do you want to go?"

She chuckled involuntarily. "Do you see me going anywhere else?"

The white wolverine smiled slightly. "No. I don't. Unless you want to take a trip to the clothes place." He looked at Mariel's tunic-She hadn't been able to change it ever since appearing here. "Dresses, I think."

Mariel coughed suddenly, bending over and choking in disbelief, while Trentilis looked on with raised eyebrows.

"Dresses?" the mousemaid managed to croak out.

"Of course. Most of the time, everybeast wears tunics, but you're another matter."

"How so?"

Trentilis looked uneasy. "I'll tell you later."

With a noise of disapproval, Mariel turned away. "Come on, then. Unless we aren't going anywhere."

The great Wolverine sighed, and got up. "This way." He strode out of the room, no glances cast at him or the mousemaid, and beckoned with one claw.

With a great 'Humph!', Mariel followed, crossed arms, and one paw at the ready.

You never knew what may happen in this place.

---

Ffindle drained some more of the water out of his flask, where the contents were dwindling swiftly. Wiping his brow, he looked along the hazy horizon, where sand dunes were distorted by waves of heat swirling and rising into the air.

Merrick stood beside him, sparrow wheeling above him a few feet higher. "Where next, then, Perilous?"

Ffindle shook his head. "No clue. I've tracked as much as I can; they seem to have disappeared into the dunes themselves."

Merrick nodded grimly, and looked up at Sharalla. "Can you lead us to where your friends let you out?"

The Sparrow let out a shrill sounding chirp in reply. "Follafolla me, quickquick nowsowe c'n get there fastafast!"

With that, she sped off.

Running to catch up, Ffindle looked back once more. The trees beckoned him back, hopefully, but he shook his head, facing the arid land before him.

The journey continued, and now, unlike the noon sun they had started under, it was mid-way to sunset.

Merrick looked at the young hare beside him running still, thoughts walking politely into his conscious mind without hurry.

_**How do you know that he is Perilous? What proof is there?**_ One demanded, but, as always, in a civil manner.

_We can only trust. Besides, Sandunal…_

_**I get the point, but what if this is some scheming plot of his? The Friar never did like him…**_

In his mind, the Trusting thought started pacing, something that his thoughts rarely did. _Well, Ffindle did steal from the kitchens-_

_**Exactly!**_

_But that is what all hares do._

Merrick was barely able to register the steady rhythm of paws beating sand, sand that shifted and tried to trip those above, listening to his thoughts.

_**You cannot deny that**_-

_Yes, I can. Ffindle is a respectful hare with enemies and allies-he just happens to have more enemies than allies._

_**Fine. We'll talk again. For now, there's a bit of a hill coming up again…**_

They both walked out, well-mannered as ever, while Merrick concentrated on getting up the hill.

"Hurryfastafast, nearnow, closeclose, notfar!"

Ffindle wiped his brow, and looked back again, still running. Mossflower wood was just a green belt in the distance now.

There was no turning back.

Sharalla slowed down, and alighted on Ffindle's shoulder, the hare stopping gradually. Merrick beside him, Ffindle sat down, and unscrewed his flask of water. Taking a couple of sips, the hare turned to Sharalla.

"Where to now?"

The little sparrow took her beak out of Merrick's flask, and answered shortly. "Littlebit findentrance hardworkvery."

Ffindle struggled to translate this particular part of speech. Liddlebid findntrez herdwurkvury?

"The entrance is hard to find?"

Sharalla nodded her head in affirmative at Merrick.

"And it is only a little bit away?"  
Once again, she nodded.

"How far?"

Sharalla considered this for a moment. "Twosandahillas farfar. Watchawatch for verminrats."

Ffindle stood. "We'd better get a move on, then, I don't want t' stick 'round when rats are nearby."

Merrick noticed a quick movement, a shadow, disappear around on of the towering dunes. He put a paw on Ffindle's shoulder after slowly standing.

"Wha-"

Shaking the hare slightly, Merrick shook his head and put a claw to his lips. "Somebeast nearby." He whispered.

Nodding his head, Ffindle let his paw stray to the short dagger that he had taken, in precaution for the trials ahead.

All was silent, but for the rustling of some sand brushing other particles as the wind swept them away, molding the dunes once more.

There was a heavy sliding sound behind them.

Ffindle whirled around, back to back with Merrick, dagger out and at the ready. Nobeast in sight.

Another sound. To their left.

Slowly, they started to rotate around. Sharalla pushed off and was airborne, circling as slowly as she could above them.

Without warning, an arrow whistled through the air, barely avoiding Ffindle's arm. Snatching it up, examined it breifely.

"Covered in some sort of powder, don't know if it's poison or not, mate."

The sky rained the same arrows, and one hit Merrick. Within seconds, he passed out, falling down.

A cry filled the air, and the rain stopped falling, arrows sticking out of the heavy sand. Sharalla came down and perched on Ffindle's shoulder, chattering.

"Ratarats herenowhere! Straightsticks coveredinna powder thatamakas you fallasleep! Surroundinusnownow!"

Ffindle's thoughts were panicked, running all over the place.

As one, the shadows, a half-score and two more surrounding Ffindle in a circle, closing in.

Rapidly.

With a cry, he lurched foreward, kicking one of them with both feet, one after the other. The rat flew back, colliding with an immense dune behind him.

At once, the vermin ran at the hare, smothering him in hot, black fabric, and , before he was knocked over the head, he heard a shrill chatter being smothered and felt a fire in him be beaten down to an ember.

---

Gonff padded quietly up to Martin, and put a paw on the warrior's shoulder. "Mate?"

Martin shook his head, paws still covering his face.

The Mousethief shook his friend. "Martin, come on! We've gotta go now! We can't stay here forever!"

Martin looked up at him. "Gonff," he croaked out. "This is the second time. _The second time!_ I can't go on without her."

With a sigh, Gonff sat down. "Yeah, mate, but you got her back again, remember? Before you both died?"

Martin nodded. "But still! She went away _voluntarily _this time! She wasn't _killed_!"

"That's because, mate, she had to restrain Mariel. You know how she gets! Remember Dannflower's father?"

"Dannflor."

"No, it is Dannflower. But remember how he got on her nerves?"

"Yes."

"Remember he was out for a season before she could be stopped? She has to be restrained. And Rose is the one to do it."

"So you're turning against me now?"

Gonff stood and hit his head, once, against a nearby tree. "No, Martin! I'm only realizing what you haven't yet!"

"You've turned."  
Gonff let out a strangle yell of frustration. "Listen, mate. We _need_ to get to Fairon-quickly. Perhaps he can help us get to Rose as well."

Martin looked up at Gonff. "You don't mean it."

"Martin, you are seriously acting like a Dibbun right now!"

"You don't mean it. You're just saying that to get me to go."

Gonff clenched his fists, and stomped off.

A little later, Methuselah was carefully making his way over to where the warrior sat.

"You too, then?"

Methuselah merely sat beside the mouse, and spoke. "Look into your stone."

Martin's head snapped up. "What?!"

"Look into your stone."

Martin gave him a stare that plainly thought he had gone mad.

"Martin, you can see her if you look into your stone."

"Methuselah?"

"Yes?"

"Have you finally cracked?"

Methuselah laughed a little, but didn't reply.

"You can't mean that all those legends of being able to look through your stone at someone else, alive or dead, are true?"

"Perhaps."

"And you don't expect me to believe that it can shrink and grow?"

"Perhaps."

Martin stared at him again.

"Here, I will take my leave. I presume we are heading out tomorrow? Being tied up saps the energy."

"Yes, yes." Martin waved the old mouse away.

Methuselah stood. "Good day, Martin."

Martin gave no reply, but sat, lost in his thoughts.

As Methuselah looked back, walking away, he saw Martin take out his Stone, and walk into the forest.

Methuselah smiled, and faced the others, waiting for his reappearance.

"Yes," he said softly, to himself, "Martin, they are true."

---

Martin leaned against a tree, holding the stone at arm's length in front of him. He stared intently at the rock, trying to figure out its puzzle, that strange thing about it, the legends and rumors about its powers.

How to work them.

If they were true.

There was a nagging voice at the edge of his conscious mind, saying that these were falsities about the Paw-stone, fantasies of hopeful beings. That whatever he tried, he wouldn't be able to see or hear Rose, for the rumors were just that-rumors.

Part of his brain agreed with this pessimistic voice. But the other part, plus his heart, remained hopeful, optimistic about these legends. For doesn't every rumor, every legend have a basis of fact?

He observed every little thing about the little stone, seeming so ordinary, dull, nothing out of normal. He only knew of its ability to communicate with other Council members, and used even that sparingly.

The warrior mouse perked up ever so slightly. There was a code to talk to one certain council member… perhaps this ability of the stone required the same sort of key to unlock it.

He stared at it, and spoke at last. "Esor em wohs."

Nothing happened.

"Wohs em esor."

No reaction occurred.

Martin continued to try every combination be could of those three words- stringing them together, adding an e every three letters, forwards and backwards, but nothing happened.

More and more of his brain was agreeing with the somehow magnified voice that surrounded the perimeter of his conscious mind now, but his heart refused to give up hope.

Finally, out of half-desperation, half-hope, he said the last thing he could think of.

"Show me Rose."

The stone began to hum constantly, and glowed brighter with each passing second. Abruptly, he set it down, and from there, it grew.

Shining more brilliantly so while it grew, it continued until it was a little shorter than Martin, and a little wider. He saw the scene in which it showed, and paid rapt attention to the mousemaid featured.

Rose.

---

They appeared suddenly in a stone cavern, with four tunnels leading off into darkness, a torch here and there. The circle-shaped area they were now in had more lights than the tunnels, but Rose still had strain to see.

"Welcome to the catacombs of Hellgates." Thairsil's voice echoed loudly, and she gestured at the walls of the circle. "Where those who have done wrong in their lives among the living stay, locked up, and awaiting their turn to slave away like those they forced to."

Now Rose could see the walls properly, instead of the usual stone walls you might find, they were layered at the bottom with cells, with now quiet creatures.

"But I thought all vermin roamed free in Hellgates, in a horrendous heat."

Thairsil smiled. "No. I see that those who are against us have brainwashed the newcomers, though it doesn't help that my kind have made a name for themselves among the living."

Rose smiled back, and nodded in agreement. Looking around, she noticed a feebly stirring pile of something solid. "I presume that that," she pointed at the heap on the stone floor, "is Badrang and company."

Thairsil nodded, and went over to them. She pulled one body off the top, and examined it in the little light she had.

"Boggs." She announced grimly to the mousemaid, who started to pick one of the beasts lying on the top of the pile up. The creature in name leapt up and tried to bite her, but, with instinctual reflexes, Rose leapt back and swung her loaded swing around to land upon the vermin's head.

Laterose went closer, and examined the creature. "Badrang. No surprise there." She picked the stoat's arms up, and dragged him over to Thairsil. "Which cell?"

Thairsil started to say something, then changed her mind. "Cell two-eight-seven. Look at the brass plates above each empty cell." She pressed a ring of keys in her paw. "This'll let you into the cell, and others."

Rose nodded at her, and dragged the stoat halfway around the circle or so before seeing an empty cell. She looked up. Two-eight-five.

The next one was empty. Two-eight-six.

Rose got to the next cell in sight, and pulled out the keys. She glanced on the numbers on them, which went from, it seemed, two-six-oh to two-nine-oh. The key to the cell that was Badrang's jumped out at her; it was copper instead of silver, for some strange reason.

Unlocking the padlock, she dragged him in, still unconscious, and dumped him unceremoniously on the cold, cracked stone floor. Rose exited, padlocked the door again, and returned to Thairsil.

They finished the chore within only a few minutes, dragging the unconscious bodies into their designated cells and locking them back in where they belonged, down here.

Thairsil pocketed the ring of keys again, and beckoned Rose to a flight of stairs. "We have to get quarters for you, and explain to Trentilis why you are here."

The mousemaid smiled, and took Thairsil's paw in her own. Momentarily startled, the ferretmaid looked at her, confusion written over her face. As if reading her mind, Laterose laughed.

"Why not?"

Thairsil let go of the stern face, the serious face, and smiled, letting just a crack of her personality show through.

They climbed the stairs, up many flights, onto the first floor, where they bumped into two creatures.

---

Martin shut off the screen at that moment, causing it to plunge into darkness. He didn't want to know who they were meeting, because perhaps, if it was Trentilis, he would sense Martin's eyes there.

The warrior growled, and paced in front of the stone. If that sorry excuse for a being of the Shadow Realms placed one claw on her, in a threatening manner, and Martin found out, he was going to wish that he had been pushed into the lava instead of what the warriormouse was going to do.

Martin leaned back against one of the trees, and let scenes of him torturing the white wolverine satisfy and relax him, before he averted his gaze back to the stone.

Could it show those up above? In the Living Realms?

He looked at it curiously, and doubtfully. It probably only showed those down here, where he was…

But then again, there was always a chance.

He took it.

"Show me Emerald."

The stone, stretched and thinned to this point, brightened again, and Martin found himself looking at a scene, vivid and bright.

---

Emerald hurried into the dress-like clothing, dark green in color. She strung the wooden flute around her neck, feeling the smooth wood underneath her claws.

She knew that her mother had played it in front of her before she could remember anything, but, deep in her memory, she recalled the first song, the first tune that she remembered hearing.

She would play it.

Emerald made sure that her tail wasn't being hampered by the dresses' length, and glanced over at Sky.

She wore a deep blue tunic with a silver belt keeping it in place, keeping it so it didn't look baggy. There weren't any bumps where they put the dagger and the water pouch, which Emerald was relieved to find. They had spent so much time on it last night, trying to flesh out and make a part of their plan work.

The squirrelmaid had to restrain a bit of a smile when one of the rat guards looked in to see their progress. She fixed him with a glare, and he quickly removed his head from the entrance.

The past few nights she had stayed up long into the night with her friends and her brother. And then, even after they went to sleep, she would go outside, and look up to the stars.

They laughed, they pondered, and they tried to inflict self-harm as a result of frustration from time to time, while illustrating the plan. Building the skeleton, fleshing it out, causing it to be complete.

She prayed it would work.

"Hey, Emerald!"

Nightsnow called her over from the other side of the tent. "I need help here!"

Seeing her, she had to choke back a childish giggle. The elaborate dress, with all these ties and buttons and the like, had Nightsnow looking like a poor soul wrapped up in a length of cream-colored string.

The mousemaid twisted around to see her approach. "I can't get this to work! Why did he _have_ to make mine all complicated and not yours?"

Keeping a straight face, with some difficulty, Emerald proceeded to untie some of the knots that were strung together in the wrong place. "Probably because you're the best behaved, you aren't doing a bunch of aerobics, and you don't have to protect him from potential harm."

Nightsnow looked at her again, and took one of the buttons out of the incorrect slit. "But if you two and Nauru get to wear plain old drab stuff, why not _me_?!"

Emerald frowned as she puzzled to get the strings put together properly. "He didn't want all of us to look dull, and you were the last option left. He can't look unimportant in front of all of those other Warlords, can he?"

She had just found out about the guests. If they were impressed, they would march to war under Oveline and get a share of the spoils. If not, they would decline and go away with their armies to go and hassle some other poor group of creatures. Perhaps that castle to the south.

"I suppose not. But what about all these ties and buttons? Why not something stunningly simple, instead of intricately beautiful?"

"Warlords like intricate clothing, I guess." From a distance, it would look like, without the sun, that the cloth was only cream colored. But there were faint swirls and flowers made up of gold thread, stitched in so that, when she was put into the sun's light, they would sparkle and show.

"I guess. You serving as well, in the beginning?"

"Nope. I have to stand by the _master's_," she spat the last word out with undisguised venom, "side. Under the cloak of being most special out of all of us, though I'm really 'protecting' him. When I go up to play, you stand by his side instead."

"So Nauru, Sky, and I are serving."

"I guess so, with the occasioinal slave. I think there was a random drawing to decide for the slaves yesterday."

"Sky goes last, right?"

"Yes. I mean, he wants to show _you_ off last, but I convinced him to let you give yours first, and give 'em all you got."

"Best song?"

"Best."

"Sad song?"

"If it's the best, yes."

"Neutral?"

"Definitely. Sing a song about the woodlanders winning, and they'll decide to not go with him."

The mousemaid looked ahead, deep in thought, paw fisted under her chin. "I've got one."

"And I've gotten all of them in the right spots." Emerald stood up from her crouched position and stretched, admiring her handiwork. "You know, Nightsnow, you really do look pretty in that. You aren't really made as well for simple beauty as extravagant."

"And you're the one to judge this, Emer?"

Emerald whipped around, and smiled at her brother. "No, but _I_ obviously look _stunning_ in this simple outfit while Nightsnow would look far better in her dress than mine." She batted her eyelashes in a joking matter, and laughed. It wasn't like the sound of bells or chimes, but nice in its own way.

"Oh, stop it, Emerald. The guards might look in and find you aren't as firm as they think you are." Sky called jokingly to the squirrelmaid.

"Well, I'm only mean to them because they never found a reason to be considerably nice to me."

"Really?" Nauru raised his eyebrows at her.

"That and I've sworn to hate vermin ever since your capture."

"That's more like it."

The rat stuck his head in again. "Yer requested t'come out."

Emerald stared at him.

The rat gulped.

Nightsnow sighed. "We may as well go, Emerald. He'll get some of his soldiers to drag us out of here, you know."

Emerald nodded. "I'll go last." She sent a glare in the rat's direction, and watched the others file out, following at the end of the line.

They stepped out into the sunlight, and Nauru set about placing platters of food, shipped in from one of Ovelines' fortresses from the south where slaves toiled in fields to produce enough food for the black foxes' liking.

Sky and Nightsnow followed him, while Emerald went over to stand by Oveline's chair.

"Keep your eyes down." He muttered to her when she arrived there. "If they see your insolence, they may not go to war with me."

"Of course." Sarcasm laced the two words, but delicately; Emerald knew that now, if she showed any of this manner to him, she or, even worse, one of her friends, could be punished in return.

Instead, she looked around with lowered eyelids at the other warlords, with a second-in-command standing beside them.

There were many rats, she noted-most looking quite vicious, and battle-hardened. One, though, looked quite nice for a vermin, small, lithe, with a rat of the same build behind him. There were only a handful of ferrets and weasels together, and a couple of stoats sat talking to each other. A few foxes were scattered here and there, but none black like he was.

The small rat looked up at her, and caught her gaze. She held it, challenging him, taunting him, prompting him to fight back. He looked away with a twitch of a smile, and resumed talking to the rat beside him, who glanced at Emerald. She glared in response, and, once he had looked away, searched the long table, chairs only half filled, for her friends.

They were all serving, placing dishes on the table, heads down, eyes lowered. The sight gave more kindling to the fire inside her, and she had to restrain herself from going berserk on them.

She glanced back at the strange rat, who was looking at Nightsnow attentively now. The squirrelmaid saw confusion, and wondering, curiosity in his eyes. What there was to wonder about, she didn't know.

"Squirrel, I need my herald."

She glanced at Oveline, and over his shoulder. "He's coming, right now."

The rat was hurrying over to the chair next to his Commander's, casting Emerald a glance that quickly changed at the hatred in her eyes.

"Tythor, it is time." The sound was a mere whisper, undetected by those sitting closest to him. The rat nodded, and cleared his throat.

"Attention!" Tythor shouted. The little murmurings that had flowed along the table stopped, and all eyes turned to the rat. "His Mightiness would like to speak to you! The slaves may go!"

They all went out of hearing distance, all but the exception of Emerald and the others.

Oveline stood. "My fellow Warlords, let me welcome you officially to my camp!" His voice was as sibilant and snake-like as when she first heard it, only increased in volume. "I thank you for accepting my invitation and coming!"

He proceeded to talk about the attacks on Redwall, and Emerald found herself dozing off slightly, but shook herself awake to listen.

It was very trying. She wondered how the warlords could manage to listen.

"And now, I will ask you all to sit and eat! Shortly we will be having a little entertainment from one of my three slaves here."

Questioning glances were directed at Emerald, Nauru, and Sky, but none at Nightsnow. From her garb, there was no doubt that she was to perform.

The warlords tucked in, and Emerald studied the rat, and his second-in-command. The latter had decent table manners, and the former seemed to be restraining himself from eating it, fast. Why she was thinking about table manners, she didn't know.

After a few minutes of eating and pleasant chatter, Oveline signaled to Emerald, who nodded. She caught Nightsnow's nervous gaze, and nodded, smiling slightly at her.

She went up to the small platform at the end of the table, and silence ensured. She was not to be interrupted.

She cleared her throat, and began to sing.

All were immediately caught on. It was sad, mournful tune, and words didn't matter.

Emerald caught Oveline looking slightly teary eyed, and the water began to seep into hers as well.

The words were so well strung together that she had to listen, hard, to get the tune out and the words in.

"A climbing rose,

A rose of vines,

Blooming late in the summer,

A sword of steel,

A warrior born,

Striking up friendship with this rose.

A rose with thorns,

A dull edge to blade,

Wrapping 'round and 'round.

Friends to love,

For eternity,

For all of lives of both.

Tragedy struck,

A bad bell's ring,

A lightning bolt of destruction.

In halting it,

In stopping it,

The rose was cut

To the ground,

And sword turned sharp,

And wept.

And then it went,

Locking a rose,

Inside its hilt,

A red gem in the center.

No other love,

No other life,

No other did that sword fall for.

And so it dulled,

And past was forgotten,

All but that rose,

And where it grew,

Locked,

Inside the sword's stone."

She stopped, and walked slowly off. The squirrelmaid saw normaly gruff vermin reduced to tears, and some wiping the salt-filled drops out of their eyes.

Clapping started off, hesitant at first, but soon deafening all within hearing range, and hurting Emerald's ears.

Nighsnow did well.

So well that she nearly hit through the last layer of Emerald's casing around her core. A crack was there, a small one, but enough to let tears through.

She let them fall, and didn't wipe them away, her eyes returning to hardened state. She stood straight and tall, all but her head. She let it hang, for who knows what the crazed Oveline might do.

The clattering of silverware against dishes came back, but softer than before. Some got up, and congratulated Oveline on this prize, and some offered a price for her, which he refused politely.

The rat came up, and nodded to Oveline.

"Quite nice mousemaid you got there, Lord of the Diabo. C'n I see her for a minute?"

Oveline nodded, and Emerald caught the rat's eye again, transmitting a message, a threat. The rat frowned slightly at her, though the sparkle in his eyes contradicted it.

As the others came forward to praise him on Nightsnow, Emerald paid attention to the rat and Nightsnow.

He talked to her, and Nightsnow stood straighter, looking at him strangely. He repeated this, and her eyes widened in astonishment. Emerald was itching to go over, but she couldn't. Oveline wouldn't allow it.

She hated how she was controlled by him so. Others would pay for her actions she knew.

Nightsnow came over to Emerald when the rat left. She bowed to Oveline. "May I talk to Emerald, Master?"

"Only for a few minutes."

"Thank you, your grace."

Emerald followed Nightsnow a ways, and studied her. How could she say that with no venom? He was their captor, and she knew that the mousemaid hated him with all her heart.

Perhaps a show.

Nightsnow stopped, and turned to her. "That rat. I saw you watching him."

"Yes?"

"He knows Sandunal."

"Who's she?"

"Cousin. Bad mother and stepfather, ran away to us, and then to Redwall."

"So?"

"He has her. But she and some sort of half-sister are part of this prophecy for his group, and so he's taking care of them. He thought I might like to know, if I was any relative."

"Did you say so?"

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"Cousin. The truth."

"Alright, but I really don't trust him." She glanced at the rat, who was watching them attentively.

Nightsnow watched her, and shook her head. "I know that vermin are usually evil, but your feelings clouds your judgment. There are some vermin who are good and kind."

"Like who?"

"I know some, but I believe Oveline wants us."

Emerald nodded, and jogged back with Nightsnow.

Oveline looked at her, and jerked his head towards the platform.

It was Emeralds turn.

She ascended the steps to surprised expressions. She dealt out glares to everybody, who looked slightly shocked at her manners.

She held the flute up to her lips, and took a deep breath.

It was slightly scary to have all those eyes on her, though half were on their plates. Once she played the first note though, that changed.

She felt at peace playing this flute, its familiar touch, the holes in all the right places. Her mother had taught her long ago, when she was a dibbun.

She remembered all the notes, all the sounds, all the placing of her claws. She knew.

There was breathtaking silence, and the notes echoed around the nearly vertical walls, magnified and fainter with every echo.

She didn't care if they just ate, she only cared that she played all the notes right.

What seemed like hours ended, and were only minutes, seconds.

Clapping came out, and she went up to take her place next to Oveline back. Nightsnow nodded to Emerald, lips quirking up into a smile. Emerald grinned at her, and let the other vermin come up yet again to praise Oveline for her. The fox smiled wryly, and hinted that she had a different talent, a bit more embarrassing to some, hilarious to others, and painful for basically all. And that he didn't know she had this astounding talent. When there was a pause in this, she spoke to him.

"I can only play this one."

"Why?"

"It's my mothers. When they tried to get another for me, I played horribly. So, if you don't want these talents to go to waste, not breaking this is critical."

Oveline nodded, a bit of the old humor in his eyes.

Once again, the rat came up, and asked permission to speak to the performer. Oveline nodded, and beckoned Nightsnow to fill in while Emerald was away.

"What do you want?"She was blunt and to the point. The rat merely smiled.

"I want to tell you that you're good."

"You think I don't know that?"

Again, the rat smiled. "I think you do. But it may have been better to put your talents of sarcasm to use."

"I think not. Oveline-"

"You call him that instead of 'master'?"

"That's off the point. Oveline did not want me to anger possible allies. Tried it once before for his captains, and one tried to kill me. Humorous, but turned dangerous fast."

"Really? How did you get out of that? Oveline to the rescue?"

"No." she snapped at him. "I can defend myself, thank you very much." She turned to walk away, but his paw grabbed her arm.

"Look into my eyes, please." She turned her head around with such force that her neck was heard snapping slightly.

"I don't want that fire in there to go out." He looked at her, penetrating her eyes. She wanted to pull away, but didn't, staring at him. He was slightly shorter than she was, but not to much so. "You could be the spark to a rebellion. Something to override this fox. Yes, I am vermin, and should be vouching for him. But I am not so; my 'slaves' stay, yes, against their own will, but I am kind to them. My soldiers work alongside them."

"And we all want to hear about you being a saint."

"Mark my words, if you aren't careful, that flame will go out, and it'll be hard to get back." He looked at her. "Perhaps too hard. Don't be cocky and don't overestimate yourself. You may not be strong enough to, perhaps, watch a loved one die or be tortured."

"I've already seen my mother die."

"Yes. That is what has turned you totally against my kind, hardened you, caused you to feel anger for basically all. Your hatred clouds your sight."

"It has strengthened me."

"Perhaps it has. But it, while making you stronger, made you weaker. Made you cold and indifferent. That will be your undoing unless you let your feelings loose. Let them go. Crying isn't a bad thing to do. Laughing isn't. Feeling isn't. You need to be able to do this. You'll be hurt if you can't." He looked at her, and strode away.

She walked back to Oveline, contemplating this. It went against almost all that she lived by. Should she follow his advice, or not?

It was time for Sky's performance.

Nauru and Nightsnow went out in front of Sky, and disassembled the stage. Mutterings of confusement enveloped the table, and some stood up to be pushed back down.

Sky stood there, gathering her bearings. The mutterings became louder, until too many were standing up to be pushed down.

There, she began.

As before, she flipped, she twirled, she bent her body in such ways that seemed impossible for anybeast to do.

She leapt on top of Nauru and Nightsnow's outstretched arms, interlocked in an 'x' shape. She was thrown up in the air, turning a couple of flips and straightening. Emerald frowned. It was only about two-thirds up the cliff that had been reached.

She was able to get down without breaking Nightsnow's and Nauru's arms, which was a relief. They weren't sure if they were going to be able to do this.

Emerald watched Sky, who was obviously giving her best. She was sweating, and panting, but didn't stop for water. Muscles stood out on her arms and legs, Emerald now realized. She was an artist, truly.

The vermin seemed to feel the same. Already they were cheering.

Three more times the tossing happened.

It was almost time.

Nobeast saw Emerald give a nod to the others.

Nobeast saw the determined expressions deepen.

Nobeast saw it coming.

Sky pushed off harder than she had all those other times, and was soaring. The delight showed on the vermin's faces, slowly turned to confusion as she continued going higher, straight as an arrow.

Sky twisted one last time and landed nicely on the ground above. She ran from sight, glancing once behind her and below, catching Emerald's eye.

Emerald nodded slightly, and said goodbye silently.

Nauru and Nightsnow looked bewildered, staring at their paws and arms. Nobeast noticed the triumphant look Emerald wore in her eyes, the proud stance, all but the rat that was there earlier.

As Oveline sent soldiers out to catch the ottermaid, the other Warlords came by to tell him their decisions and say goodbye, and good luck.

The rat came by, and asked to talk to her again. Oveline, preoccupied, nodded again.

He looked at her once they were a safe distance away. "Why did you send her away?"

Emerald looked at him. "She has to tell someone about the attack. Oveline doesn't know she knows the intricate plans."

The rat nodded. "Think about my advice?"

Emerald thought a little more. "Yes."

"And what do you think?"

She paused, but went on anyways. "You're right about many things, but I can't trust anybeast I meet. Creatures will take advantage of a trusting soul, and rip it apart."

He nodded.

"I know I need to let my feelings loose. And I will, but now I can't. I can't right now."

He nodded again. "My name's Dobane."

"Emerald."

"I look forward to the battle."

She cocked her head. "You going with Oveline?"

"No. I'm fighting with Redwall."

Emerald looked at him. "Really?"

"Truly."

"Well, then. Good luck."

He nodded once more, then went away.

Emerald turned, squared her shoulders, and prepared to face the consequences for Sky.

She hoped that the ottermaid would make it in time.

---

Martin looked at the stone, darkened, restored to normal size, and looking perfectly normal.

Things were going well. Not perfect, but well.

Now, he needed to set them right down here.

_Fairon_, he thought. _Here I come. I need answers_.

And so he walked out of the forest, and into the camp.

* * *

**A/N:SKY ESCAPES!!!**

**I have had this in my mind since about chapter ten. FINALLY I get to write it. I lengthened the 'Emerald' part just for this. I hope it didn't bore you to tears.**

**Thank you again.**


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Not the longest, Not the shortest. But here you go, read if you will, and I thank you for it.

* * *

Chapter 22:

The first thing he was aware of was that he was hungry. Terribly, horribly hungry.

The second thing was that he was cold, and he couldn't move his limbs; not that he wanted to, they seemed a bit…fragile right now.

And then he felt the pain.

It swept over him like a wild fire, streaming with rage through his veins and settling in numerous hordes around his wrists and ankles, and, in the largest numbers, at the back of his head.

He groaned, trying to roll over. Hunger, cold, and pain wasn't the most favorite of his combinations.

He froze at something uncomfortable sticking into his spine, and opened his eyes. Ffindle saw, a mere five inches in front of him, a ragged, stone wall.

The uncomfortable thing moved a little bit, in and out, almost prodding him. He tried to turn again, but he was abruptly shoved into the rough wall, face first.

"Don't move." The voice was gravelly, unpolished, and Ffindle caught a whiff of roasted fish, soured a bit.

Ffindle's nose was throbbing dully, and, hard as he might, he couldn't think of anything to get away.

It was no use talking, there was some sort of cloth in his mouth, wadded up so well that he couldn't push it out with his tongue, just down his throat.

The hare suddenly lashed out with his hind legs just as pawsteps echoed around him. Caught by surprise, the beast grunted and staggered backwards, smashing into another wall. Ffindle rolled over, and, using the wall, rough as it was, to get himself up. Purely by luck, a jagged stone sticking out of his aid snagged on the ropes binding his forepaws together, and pulled them apart. Clearly, the creature who had tied him was no expert rope binder.

He looked at the creature before him, a small rat with a thin tail, and another rat, burly and scarred slightly. Knowing he couldn't get around with his back paws tied together, he pulled at the rope, which, with some prodding, slid right off.

As soon as he was done, the former rat pulled the other up, and glanced at Ffindle, who was up against the wall, shaking slightly. He hadn't eaten in a long while, he supposed.

The rat surprisingly, grinned at him, while the burly one growled, reaching for his spear.

"Non si muova. Lascilo parlare lui. Fine di soggiorno." Ffindle, naturally, couldn't understand a word of it.

The burly rat grunted, and stood sentential by the door. The lithe rat looked at him, and, yet again, smiled.

"Hello."

Perfect, pure English. Ffindle stared at him but, not wanting to seem like an imbecile, straightened up.

"Same t'you."

The rat looked pleasantly surprised. "Not going to put on all that bravado, then? Good." He turned to the burly rat. "Vedi tell."

The rat grunted again, and focused his gaze on Ffindle.

"Not going to put on that speech of 'I've captured you, you've got to do e'rything I say,' eh?"

The rat raised his eyebrows, still smiling. "Now, why would I say that?"

"Your kind are usually like that."

Ffindle watched his captor shake head solemnly. "Ahh, them. They give such a bad name to my kind. Terrible, terrible hindrance to my existence, you know." He looked back up at Ffindle. "But then again, my guards tell me you put up such a fight when they tried to get you safely inside. Horrible act there, horrible."

The hare suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Remember the 'terrible hindrances'? That's what I was thinking about at the time."

The rat nodded again. "Ahh, yes. Naturally, there aren't many like me. No, not many at all. So, I suppose I will forgive you for your actions, and trust that you will stay within the confinements of these tunnels."

Ffindle raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

The other creature nodded, and drew and 'x' in the air above his heart. "Cross my heart on it."

Ffindle nodded as well, wheels turning in his head. If he didn't, he could easily escape, and get out of here…

"But what about the Abbot?"

"The mouse?" the rat waved his paw. "Started acting like the average woodlander would, shouting curses at us and all. Sadly, I had to lock him up."

"Oh." He had never pictured the Abbot that way; he would've thought that he and the Abbot would be switched around in current positions. "Did he let you speak first?"

"No."

_Well, then, there isn't a wonder the Abbot was still under guard_, Ffindle thought, staring at the ceiling, and then abruptly changing the course of the conversation.

"Do you know anybeast named Sandunal?"

The rat cocked his head, and stared at him, showing a hint of genuine surprise in his eyes. "Why?"

Ffindle sighed. "Long story."

"Yes."

"Yes, long story?"

"No."

"No, you don't understand 'long story'?"

"NO! I know a mousemaid named Sandunal."

Ffindle's heart beat faster. "Where is she?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Childhood friends."

"And how did you separate?"

Ffindle's paws twitched as he restrained from pulling his ears. "As I said before, it is a long, long story?"

"Well then, why don't you tell me?"

The hare sighed, and, ignoring the dizziness in his head and the minor protests of his stomach, resigned to obeying the rat's last command.

---

Martin sucked in his breath, and breathed out slowly, rubbing his temples in slow circles.

This was getting far, far too complicated. Especially since they had left the forest, and had to trek over endless plains. They were still in them.

Luckily, there was a little bit of change in the scenery; instead of the tall, blinding gold stalks of grass, there was a tree here and there. The green relieved him, and he looked forward to seeing another. Gold gets a bit boring after a while, like any other color.

He paced back and forth, trampling shorter stalks of grass under his paws. Every once in a while, he glanced at the stone, observing it for any change, just in case. He had lost one of his daggers last night.

This grass was dangerous.

Who knew what beasts lay out there? There were more cracks leading from Hellgates now that Oveline was gathering vermin and keeping slaves. Toads and snakes were regular fiends in The Dark Forest now, and had to be impaled to 'kill' them, cleaned of any wound, and thrown down one of the one-way-portals leading to Hellgates.

Martin sighed, and turned to the stone, iridescent colors now swirling in it. Checking his possessions, and casting a wary eye around, he sat on the ground.

"Rosilla, Dobane's Caverns."

---

Rosilla was giddy with joy. When Levirkad had killed her son, she viewed all ferrets as evil, dark beasts who needed to be wiped off the face of Mossflower and all land surrounding it.

She was fine with rats, though, for obvious reasons.

A knock sounded at the door. "Dobane needs to see you and Sandunal down in room," There was a pause, "Two-hundred nineteen."

She opened the door, and a stoat handed her a scroll. The mousemaid eyed the stoat warily; they bore too many resemblances to ferrets.

"Thank you."

This meant Dobane had come back. Good. He'd let her torture Levirkad.

The others had refused to let her near him until their leader had come back from this silly meeting; Oh-vell-aiyne, or something like that.

She turned to Sandunal, who had been taking a nap, but had woken up the minute the knock had come. "I take it you heard everything?"

Sandunal snorted. "I'm not deaf, you know."

Rosilla grinned, and walked out, leaving Sandunal to follow and ponder.

Ever since finding that it was Levirkad who had killed her son, Rosilla had had an obsession with the ferret; with causing that ferret such pain that his voice would die from the amount of screaming. Everything else, or nearly everything, was overridden by this fantasy of her half-sisters; everything but Sandunal and her sarcasm. The mousemaid shook her head. Rosilla was farther in the hole than she could pull her out. And she didn't know who could.

"This way!"

Sandunal's mind snapped back to the presence as Rosilla turned the corner, leaving her to abandon her thoughts and just follow. She barely remembered any of the tunnels from her earlier exploring; but at least _something_ registered.

Winding tunnels confused her mind. She didn't like them at all; she never knew what was north, south, east, or west after meandering or even following a guide through these Catacombs.

Finally, they got to a hallway, sandwiched by wooden doors. Rosilla began counting the brass plates that bore the room's number on them.

"Two-hundred one, two-hundred three, two-hundred five, two-hundred seven, two-hundred…" Sandunal tuned her out, and just followed, reading the nameplates by herself. She was just past two-hundred eleven now… and then it skipped to two-hundred fifteen. The mousemaid nearly stopped, but shook it off and kept going. One more thing to ask Dobane.

"…Two-hundred nineteen! Should I knock?"

Sandunal rolled her eyes. "Well, we don't have a _key_ or anything, do we?" Rosilla looked her and chuckled softly before carrying out her plan.

Three sharp raps at the door, and a voice called out, "Is it a Rose?"

"Thorns and All." Rosilla replied; they had to answer the question correctly to identify themselves.

"Is it the wind?"

"Carrying the Sand."

"Come in, then!" The door opened, and Dobane was revealed, small and lithe as ever. He stepped away from the entrance, and ushered the two mice in.

---

The first thing that Rosilla noticed was that there was this huge, hulking rat looking grumpy and mean, tapping his claws almost threateningly on the shaft of his spear.

The second thing was that there was a hare in the room. That was who the rat must've been directing the menacing glare and the warning to.

The third thing was that Sandunal had her mouth hanging open.

"Sandunal?"

There was no answer to Rosilla's question, and, upon second glance, she saw the hare staring just as stupidly at her half-sister as her sister was at him.

"Sandunal? Who is this?"

"Ffindle?" It was breathed out in disbelief.

Rosilla was effectively confused now, and even her satisfying images of Levirkad screaming were dimmed as she took in the scene before her.

Suddenly, Sandunal leaped at the hare and punched him. Rosilla was about to leap when Dobane held her back, chuckling.

They tussled on the floor occasionally punching each other, tweaking noses, pulling ears, and pinching each other. Finally, they got up, panting, fur spiking every which way, still exchanging soft blows a bit more halfheartedly than before.

"That was for not getting me, you great lump of a stomach in fur." She slapped him on the cheek, not causing his head to snap back, but she moved it to the side all the same.

Ffindle pulled her ear. "And _that_ was for goin' outside o' the gates at night."

Sandunal laughed, and punched him in the stomach lightly. "This is for causing me to give you times of when the Friar was sleeping and pastries were set to cool on the racks."

"Well, _this_ is for forcing me to share with you, you little blighter!" He grabbed her head and banged it with his.

She emitted a loud yell, and stood, kicking him in the tail. "That was for what you just did!"

The fight was prevented again by the rat, who pointed his spear at Ffindle. The hare glanced at the door and, judging it to be too far away to get to in time, desisted from punching Sandunal again. Rosilla snickered quietly.

"Well, now that not-so-formal greetings are out of the way, I need to get Sandunal and Rosilla to the next cell…Ffindle, you need to stay here."

The hare rolled his eyes. "Naturally."

Rosilla's last glance of Ffindle was that of him snatching the spear from the guard and turning the bottom end of it on the rat.

---

Martin buried his head in his paws. So, so stressful…having to make sure Rosilla didn't lose her sanity was going to be like one against two-hundred score. And to think he had to do that _tonight_…

Three days it had been since he last checked the stone. Three days, three nights. He wondered…he hadn't been able to check…

"Sky, somewhere in Mossflower."

The stone turned light at once, showing the ottermaid, and Martin leaned towards the stone, his nose almost touching the light-emitting oval.

_By the Dark Forest, no…_

Dream time.

Taking a deep breath, he uttered two words and conked out, his last fleeting thought was that of how he hated the ordeals he had to go through to get a message to living beasts while it was daytime…

---

Sky stumbled onwards, her water pouch empty, trapped in this endless sea of dry, crackling grass. Her vision was doubled, and she thought she could see a fringe of trees on the far horizon, seeming to back away farther and farther with every step she could.

_Can't…go on…thirsty…so thirsty…_

She collapsed on the ground, but, with a groan, wrenched herself back up. _Must go on…so thirsty, though…so tired…want rest…want sleep…must go on…catch me…_

The ottermaid could barely see in front of her, and the corners of her vision were fuzzy and turning dark. Her head felt heavy, hot, and something seemed to be pounding a huge drum inside of it. Gasping, she nearly tripped, but quickly righted herself, and pushed harder.

_No more after this…find a stream in Mossflower once you get to it…must…prevail…_ The calm part of the brain reassured her, and gave instruction. She obeyed, and kept going, on and on and on…

The sun was now right above her, and it beat down mercilessly upon her dehydrated body. Eventually, she collapsed.

_No more…must rest…now…_

Suddenly, a hazy, worn-looking figure appeared before her. A mouse stood before her, holding out his paw. "Come."

"Can't…" To her dismay, her voice was cracked and dry. _Need water…_

"Come. Mossflower is within sight. You must prevail, or Redwall will fall." She looked into his eyes, and saw that he hated having to say that, hated having to have her give up her life for the sake of the old Abbey. She knew who it was.

She took a deep breath of dry, crackling air, and stood, nodding. "Show me…"

He smiled. "Take my paw."

She looked at it, and grasped it, finding that it was real. It was rough padded, and the warriormouse seemed to be gone now. She looked at the creature before her, who was a mouse, but not much like Martin.

"You alright?" He looked over her thinning figure, her sinking eyes, and her cracked lips.

"No…" She glanced at his paw again, and then back up. "I need to…Redwall."

He stared into her eyes. "Why?"

"War."

He looked at her again, and then shook his head. "I'll take you there. I've got to go there myself." Once again, he observed her. "What in Hellgate's name happened to you?"

She tipped her head back, and stared at the sky. "Freedom." She then started to walk forward, but sunk to her knees within a few steps.

She felt paws hoist her up and seeing the sky, so wide and blue and cloudless, before blacking out, one last thought echoing through her mind.

_Freedom…_

---

Jared walked at a steady pace, the ottermaid in his arms, towards the trees of Mossflower.

Freedom, she said. Freedom. He realized now that she was either kept prisoner or was a slave, though her appearance seemed a bit too healthy, especially for one who seemed to have gone without water for a day now. A working slave would've been overrun by morning today if there were beasts tracking it. And by the look of her from afar, pushing and pushing, it seemed like there were.

Soon, the trees loomed over him, and he went immediately to a large oak at the edge of the forest. He knocked on it, taking care not to disturb the ottermaid from her rest.

"Who planned the great Sandstone Red?"

"First Abbess of Redwall."

"Who is Leader of Mountain by Sea?"

"Badger Lord of Salamandastron."

"Who is the danger to the south?"

"A black fox called the Evil One."

"And Who is the one to save us all?"  
"A child of Kari Treefringe."

"Enter." A gigantic knot in the tree was slid aside, and a grey squirrel was revealed in the 'doorway'. "Jared?"

"Hymen?"

"Who is that?" Hymen pointed at the ottermaid, who's eyes were still tightly lidded.

"I don't know. Somebeast speaking to thin air where I was, and then grasping my outstretched paw. Perhaps a slave of the south, though I doubt it."

Hymen shook his head. "Haven't you heard of our reports among the slaves? They say three females are slaves meant to perform for Oveline's big ceremonies and feasts, and that they are an otter, a squirrel, and a mouse. The otter is good at flipping and those kinds of tricks. The squirrel…flute playing and sarcasm. The mouse…lovely singer. And they say the otter got away by using her talents."

"This otter?"

"This otter."

He looked at her, and back up at the squirrel. "Dehydration. Need water, fast." Hymen nodded, and went further in, beckoning his friend to enter.

The ottermaid's face was distorted by pain for a moment once he stepped inside, but collapsed into a calm, wrinkle-free expression.

"Freedom."

---

The mousemaid padded rebelliously behind Trentilis, eyes narrowed and arms crossed in annoyance. He glanced back and quickly righted his eyes to the front to avoid any bouts of laughter that would obviously irate her to no end.

His ears pricked up, catching a few stray quivers of sound in the air. There were no intelligible words in them, but they were words all the same; that much he was certain of.

Mariel slammed into him, storm clouds above her head. "Watch it!"

The wolverine raised his 'eyebrows', which were but a slight raise in the head. "What was that?"

"Watch it! _That's_ what I said! Are you **deaf** or something?!"

Trentilis wondered what end of the bed she woke up on, but didn't say it aloud, seeking not to provoke her anger further. He shook his head.

"Come on."

He padded onward, with Mariel grumbling incomprehensible words at his back. From what he could hear, her paws were clenching and unclenching in an effort to calm herself down.

The sounds became louder, though Mariel's not-so-sensitive ears couldn't detect them. He did, though, hear Thairsil. No words, just tone and sound.

The wolverine walked faster, causing Mariel to have to jog to catch up with him. "Will you slow down?!"

He ignored the hissed complaint, and merely continued what he was doing until he could hear Thairsil's voice _and_ another's.

Suddenly, two creatures collided with Mariel and Trentilis, everybeast but one falling to the ground.

"This Trentilis?"

Thairsil nodded at the mousemaid beside her. "The wolverine, at any rate. I suspect that you know the mousemaid next to him."

Mariel stared at the other mousemaid. "Rose?"

She nodded gravely. "Yes."

"How'd they get _you_? I mean, _you've_ got_ Martin_!"

She shrugged. "Badrang and four others got loose. Martin got…tied up with the others being heroic. That's just fine though; I was loose to act sensibly and help to render them unconscious."

"How did they get you?"

Rose sighed. "Somewhere else, someplace else. Please."

"Fine." Mariel scrunched her shoulders and then glared at Trentilis. "Besides, I never was able to find out why in the Dark Forest's name I was taken here, and still _am_ here!"

"You're in Hellgates, Mariel. **Not** the Dark Forest."

"Fine. In Hellgates' name."

The wolverine stared at her, pondering, juggling with the possibilities and consequences of actions.

"Maybe later."

Mariel growled. "_**Now**_."

Trentilis held up his stone. "You can't attack me now, can you?"

"No…but I sure can do _other_ things." Without warning, she ran off to the catacombs, after snatching the keys from Thairsil.

"She wouldn't…" Trentilis stared after her in disbelief.

"It sure looks like she is going to, so stop ogling and _stop her_!" It was Rose that yelled this at him, though not quite so much so that Mariel could hear her.

He shook his head as though getting water out of his ears, and thundered off after the escapee.

---

Mariel ran blindly down steep stairs, dashed through torch-lit tunnels, and searched for the cells with the numbers that matched those on the keys.

_Two-eight-seven…Two-eight-six…Two-eight-five…Two-eight-eight…Two-eight-nine…_

The copper one, 'Two-eight-seven', looked like a promising key. It would most likely lead to some harmless vermin; she didn't want to get hurt, just dump more stress on that irritating wolverine.

The mousemaid was still in the eight-hundreds… how far away _was_ this cell? Vermin leered at her, baring crooked, yellowed teeth as she passed.

"Where's the little mousie going?"

"C'mon, lemme out! I won't 'arm ye!"

"Forget the wolverine…he's no friend…_I'll_ be your friend…for a fee…"

"Help! The wolverine tortures me evr'day, and I wish sorely to es'ape this fierce 'ate. Help. Help. Help."

"I have a wife! I have children! Set me free, pretty mousemaid, set me free!"

Mariel rolled her eyes. Five-hundreds…

"Mousie, let me out!"

"Oo have friends? Lovers? Family? 'f oo don't let m'out, I'll 'unt 'em all 'own, an' 'en I'll 'ake oo 'or a slave!"

She bared her teeth at them in reply, snarling at them to be quiet. They snarled in return.

Three-hundreds…one more hundred to go.

The mousemaid heard Trentilis closing in on her, footpaws pounding the stone, and vermin shouting at him.

"Aw…lay it on 'er! Thirty lashes! Fourty lashes! She di'nt let me out!"

"Teach 'er what 'Ellgates _really_ 'eans! 'Orture! 'Ashes! 'nything! 'Ust 'ake 'er cry 'ard!"

She finally came to an alcove, and one copper plate jumped out at her; _Two-eight-seven_.

The mousemaid fumbled with the keys, pulling out the copper one that matched the plate. Taking a deep breath, she plunged the key into the lock, and twisted the handle.

"Thank you so much…mousemaid…" A stoat stepped towards the door and shoved it open, pushing her to the ground in the process.

She scrabbled backwards, searching for something…anything…a rope would do fine for her.

"Now…come with me, and I'll take you up. I'll take up back, but on one condition." Not waiting for a question, he supplied the answer.

"Slavery."

He swung his fist at her head, seeking to knock her unconscious.

Darkness overwhelmed the room.

---

Martin wailed as the screen went off, and he clutched his head, sobbing quietly into his paws.

No. No, no, no no no. No. Not _again_. Couldn't let Badrang get away, couldn't let him come _back_.

He now understood a little more about the 'cell' part. Thanks to the stone, he realized what Trentilis had meant so long ago; _"There are those in my cells who mutter your name, who curse it, Martin the Warrior."_

At least, it was something like that. Something close, at least.

He shook his head, and returned to the task.

Who next?

He realized that there was Redwall, but they didn't need watching just yet. So that left only one beast…

"Emerald, Oveline's camp."

---

She squinted her eyes in pain as Oveline whipped her yet again, taking the punishment for Nightsnow and Nauru.

"Where did she go?"

The past couple days had become a punishment session and a torture period, and she realized now what Dobane had meant with the fire going out. She wanted less pain, less rebellion, and less resistance. But then she thought of Sky's soaring figure as it flew to freedom…

Freedom. Hope. That's what kept her going. That's what steeled her against the stinging pain of the whip.

So she lied.

"I. Don't. Know."

"Lies!" The whip came down again, which caused her to bit the inside of her cheek in an effort not to cry out. That pain took away some of the attention that went to the other pain, the pain in her back.

Oveline had grown crazier. The meeting didn't go quite as well, because of Sky's escape, though there were some who stayed for Nightsnow's skill and singing, and a few for her own talent with that one flute.

His eyes were bloodshot, his mind had snapped, and he beat upon her with a relentless fury.

"I repeat. WHERE IS SHE GOING?"

"I don't know!"

The whip came down again, causing her to dig her claws slightly into her own arm to stop from screaming. No…couldn't let him win…

_Let out your feelings…_

But it hurts…it hurts _so_ much.

_Let them out…let them free…you can exchange your status for your life…you are no use to Redwall __**dead**_

Can't…must not…let him…win…

_You aren't letting him win. You are fooling him._

I have to stay strong…I…must…not…give…UP!

_Let it out…Let him believe that you are broken…let him…_

The whip came down again, and this time a bright flash of light erupted in her eyes, and she felt liquid running down her back.

_Little more time…Let it loose…Let him believe that you are finally broken…he would expect no less…_

Martin?  
_Yes! Now, let that scream loose! You will NOT let him win! You will make him believe that you have lost all hope of freedom…_

The whip came down, and she wasted no second.

She screamed.

Oveline stopped suddenly, and bent down. "Are you going to tell me?"

"I-I-I don't know."

He straightened up and raised the whip, but then squatted down again. "Are you broken?"

"I-I don't know."

He lifted her chin. "Do you want the pain to stop?"

She croaked out an affirmative.

"Call me master."

She hated herself. She hated herself for looking weak. But it had to be done…it had to be done…

"Master…"

"Do you know where she went?"

"No, Master…"

He straightened. "Good." He raised his voice. "I want a slave in here!"

A scared looking vole scurried in, casting a wary glance at the torn back of the squirrelmaid, and answered. "Yes, Master?"

"Clean her up. I want her healed in two days."

"But in her state…"

"Three then! Get her well!"

"Y-y-yes, of course." The vole scurried out of the tent before he could enrage Oveline's wrath any further.

Emerald's eyesight went woozy, and she had to fight to keep her eyes from dimming and from slipping into cool, blessed darkness. Oveline knelt down, and looked into her eyes.

"The ember buried deep…" he muttered, and looked pleased with what he saw. "Good. When you are healed, I will have need of your old services."

She was only able to manage a half-hearted nod before being drowned in a wave of black.

---

Nightsnow had seen it all. She had hidden in a dark corner of the tent, near a slit she could wriggle in and out easily.

_Poor, poor Emerald_, she had thought the first time. _I hope that she's alright._

She couldn't muster up the courage to take a blow or two for the squirrelmaid, and now…she wished she had.

She had seen the fire die. She had seen the courage fall. The hope reduced to a flickering, frail spark. And she wanted to cry.

Emerald had been the center of hope and courage, joy and life, laughter and wit, their anchor to rebellion. And that anchor had been split in half by a murdering, mad, senile black fox who thought _he_ would conquer Redwall Abbey, that _he_ was better than all, and Nightsnow…Nightsnow wanted to kill him, over and over and over. He had killed her spirit, her life, her soul. And left an empty case behind.

She recalled Dobane's words to her before he had left.

_"Call Sharalla when you need to send word…bad or good…"_

This was bad. Bad, bad, bad. She returned her gaze to the squirrelmaid. _Oh, Emerald…_

Oveline left, and the vole returned with a few other slaves, a stretcher in their paws. Gently, they pulled her down from where she hung, and put her, face-down, on the stretcher. Nightsnow heard their mutterings.

"…poor gal…"

"Son of Hellgates, I shouldn't wonder…"

"So full of hope…"

"…gone, all gone…"

"Look at her back! Torn to shreds. She'd need a month or so to recover!"

"And he wants her back in how many?"

"Three days."

Their voices lowered, as they grumbled about their enslaver's habits of this kind. They quieted as Emerald muttered.

Nightsnow strained to hear, and finally could.

"Of course…I will...You're right…Never…In…Don't….I won't…"

The slaves nearly dropped the stretcher. "Is it Martin?"

A haremaid shook her head. "No. I don't think so."

"Why?"

"I just…don't."

"Let's stop daddling and get her some medical care."

They all nodded, and went out of the tent, leaving Nightsnow to wriggle out of her slit.

She ran as fast as she could to the cooking tent, where Nauru was awaiting information.

She collapsed in the tent, where the white squirrel caught her before she dropped. "Nightsnow?"

"Given in…I think…Martin…spoke to her…I think…"

"Catch your breath. Sit down, if you must."

She shook her head and just placed her paw on the squirrel's shoulder, taking deep breaths.

Once she had regained control of her lungs, he asked, "How's Emerald?"

"I-I don't know. She seems to have given up, but then…" She trailed off, not sure how to explain this.

"What?"

"I think Martin was talking to her."

Nauru cocked his head at her. "Emerald?"

Nightsnow rolled her eyes. "Who did you think I was talking about?"

"It had to be somebeast else; I can't see Martin talking to Emerald without her trying one of her tricks on him."

Nightsnow smiled a little, and then it vanished. "She was our taproot."

Nauru raised his eyebrows. "Was?"

She nodded.

"_I_ thought she still was. She's alive, and, even if she _wasn't_, I'd keep fighting for her. For her old self."

The mousemaid bit her lip and lifted her eyes to the roof of the tent, thinking. Slowly, she replied. "I think I understand. And, no matter what, we're going to continue her plan."

"There was no doubt about that."

"But who?" Nightsnow peeked out a slit in the tent towards the guards a few feet away. She continued in a lower tone. "Guards. At any rate, there aren't many others that are up to the task; you haven't seen how hard he pushes them now."

Nauru shook his head and held it in his paws, rubbing his temples. "I don't know. Emerald would, but…" he trailed off, only to pick up the thread again. "How is she? Physically, I mean."

Once again, she bit her lip. "Not good. He kept beating her, and it's going to take her quite a while to get better, though he wants her well in three days. I don't think she'll ever be the same around whips, though."

"Emerald has always found ways over obstacles."

"I don't know if she will this time."

Nauru began to speak, but stopped, and changed the conversation quickly. "Do you think the Master would like fish with rosemary sprinkled on top tonight?"

"Wha-Oh. Of course he would, though I would add something else to it. It seems a bit bland for that."

The tent flap flapped open as Oveline stepped in. Immediately, they fell to their knees, as was expected of them.

"Mouse."

She kept her head to the ground, knowing that a 'slave' shouldn't look into 'it's Master's' eyes. "Yes, Sire?"

"Come. You are needed to heal the squirrel."

She nodded, and, when he stepped out, she muttered to Nauru, "Be back quick. Blood sandstone needs a plan."

He nodded, and watched her leave, before taking out a fish and starting to cook, digging into the corners of his mind for a way.

Nothing would smother his hope.

Nothing.

---

_The black abyss dissolved, and Emerald found herself standing in front of a dim pair of gigantic gates. "Hello-o? Anybody home?"_

_A badger looked over the battlements, and made a double-take. "What? You aren't supposed to be here?"_

_She shrugged. "Sorry, I was kind of beat to death."_

_He looked at her closely, and then smiled. "You aren't clear enough. You still are alive."_

_"I don't __**want**__ to go back!" Terrified, she took a step towards the gates._

_He held up a paw. "Peace. There are those who need you. There are those who need your help."_

_One tear escaped from her eye. "Don't you see? I'm broken! __**BROKEN**__!"_

_A spectral image of a mouse appeared before her suddenly, causing her to take an involuntary step back, and her image turned slightly more transparent than before._

_"Ugh…Don't think I like this way of communicating much."_

_The badger's eyes widened slightly. "Martin! How…"_

_"Tell you later. Got too much on my paws to tell you now, with all these beasts to look over..." He turned to Emerald. "And what do you think you're doing, dying?"_

_"I have __**nothing**__ left. I'm a shell. And empty, soulless shell."_

_The warriormouse shook his head. "No. You aren't."_

_"No?"_

_"No. You still have all those qualities you think you lost. They're just…buried deep right now, even though you fake-gave in."_

_Memories came back a little as she took another step back. She remembered the sting of the whip, and the voice in her head…_

_**Let him believe…**_

_She shook her head. "I can't. I'm not strong enough to go back."_

_A half-smile appeared on his features. "Good. You'll regain your strength. A friend is calling you back…"_

_She heard a voice echo through her mind. "__Emerald…Emerald, don't die…Emerald…__"_

_She shook her head once more. "I'm not strong enough, but I can try. I'll go back, if it means they can live. If at least one will live."_

_"Can't make promises."_

_"Fine. I'm going."_

_She turned her back just in time not to see Martin's smile as he looked at her retreating figure with admiration._

Emerald's vision was spiraling, and her head seemed like needles were being jabbed in and out harshly, with drums echoing inside. Uncomfortable, she tried to move but let out a hiss of pain as her back started to flame, to burn with a vengeance she wasn't sure she deserved.

"She's awake! She's awake!"

She tried to locate the beast speaking, but couldn't as everything was moving back and forth. The effect was so dizzying that she had to close her eyes in order to keep the pain in her skull from ascending.

"Emerald…Emerald, you a bit…better?" She squinted her eyes open, and found that it wasn't quite so nauseating, and she could only see two of the same creatures instead of seven.

She tried to croak out 'no', but her throat was too raw. Her neck and head hurt too much to shake it. Raising a shaking paw momentarily, she wagged it back and forth twice before it fell to her side limply.

"No? Okay…just a minute…" Nightsnow left, and Emerald heard muffled sounds of stomping paws, and then shouts.

"She's in far too bad a condition to be healed in _three_ days! Three days is NOT enough!"

"Four then."

"She's going to need a month at least!"

"She's of hard material. She'll pull through."

"Well, then, at least give me a week or two! Her back needs to heal, her head needs to heal, and her legs are so rubbery she wouldn't be able to walk in three days. She'll need the muscles worked for her, and her wrist muscles are a bit strained from all the hanging. She. Needs. More. Than. Three. Or. Four. Or. Even. Ten. Days!"

She didn't want Oveline to hurt Nightsnow. "Please…" Her throat hurt to talk, and it came out in a raspy, quiet whisper.

"Miss Nightsnow, she's attempting to talk!"

"Excuse me." She heard scuffling paws, and slightly opened her eyes again. Nightsnow was there, and, much to her own relief, there was only one of her.

"Emerald?"

"Don't…let…him…hurt…"

"Shhh, shhh. I won't, I'll fight." Emerald saw the sorrow in her eyes, and knew that she had seen and what she now thought.

Painfully, she shook her head. "Not…gone…"

"What?" Nightsnow put her ear to Emerald's mouth, and she managed a sentence without pauses.

"Let him believe that Hope is gone…"

Her eyes widened, and she clenched Emerald's paw. "Pull through. You can do this. You are strong enough."

"Dobane…"

"What?"

"Tell him…fire…not…gone."

Nightsnow nodded, and then Oveline entered. "How long."

Nightsnow pondered, but Emerald answered. "Week. Half more and week. Maybe less. Maybe more. Please…" she took a deep breath, and everything went black.

---

Nightsnow felt her forehead, and examined her heart. It was beating fine, though a little slow for her liking. Emerald's lungs looked fine, though her back was a huge mess…Luckily, Emerald had the kind of fur that could mostly conceal the scars that would remain.

"Week and a half…"Oveline looked at the squirrel's pained face, and humpfed. "Fine. That's long enough. Get her well fast; we're marching on soon."

Nightsnow's eyes stayed the same, though her heart started beating faster than before.

Redwall…

As soon as Oveline was gone, Emerald sighed, emitting a word that Nightsnow could barely hear, though one attendant next to her heard.

"Freedom…"

The vole's eyes widened. "Not…"

"No. Not broken." Nightsnow looked at the ceiling of the tent. "Chipped, yes. Not broken. Not given in. She's got hope."

"For Freedom?"

"For Freedom." She looked at him. "Willing to keep a secret?"


	23. Synopsis

**A/N**: I thought that whoever wanted to read the rest of this deserved to know the ending. I will be doing this with _Teralose_, I promise, but I finished this in three days... It was alright, I guess. Thanks. (Notes throughout the overview)

Hope you're happy with it.

* * *

Synopsis of Rest of Story:

Basically, Sky reaches Redwall with the trackers not too far behind. Redwallers let her in, and one anonymous mouse shoots a rat. The other three rats escape to report to Oveline. Sky introduces herself, the creatures of Redwall recognize (one recites part of the prophecy) and they prepare for the war after an intelligence meeting.

Meanwhile, Dobane teams up with Ffindle and Merrick, along with Rosilla and Sandunal, and rallies his army to help Redwall. There are a few objections, as such with vermin (hey, I don't want the vermin to act all 'redeemed', that's too much like the beginning of this fic.) that were quickly silenced. Redeemed though he may be, Dobane is ruthless and unforgiving. They take measures and preperations, leaving a token force behind to protect the caves. By that time, Levirkad had been slowly murdered, and we see Rosilla's sadistic side. She's grown more bitter and cruel since her son's death, even though he was a pain in the neck to deal with.

(_Exert Something I came up with at the moment…_)

* * *

_**Rosilla slowly carved the knife down his already scar-ridden arm, relishing the screams of anguish with twisted pleasure.**_

_**"Did it feel this good," she asked softly, "When you killed those children?"  
Slowly, she pulled out another dagger, coated in a formula to make his pain increase tenfold as she slowly jabbed it into his wrist, sending it through his bloodlines. He let out another, ear-splitting howl as it coursed through his veins, jabbing and filling his body with pinpricks of pain. He strained against the bonds holding him to the wall, and cursed her in a high-pitched tone.**_

_**"Those little lives? Well, you're in front of one who cared about them." The mousemaid grinned wickedly as she grabbed a forepaw, and slowly started to cut off one of the 'fingers', drawing the blade back and forth. His screams were hoarse now, and his eyes were wide open in shock and pain. The ferret's tail had already been lopped off, and was still letting out a thin stream of blood. "And I can only imagine with sick horror how you felled them one…" she finished separating the section from his paw, and started on another. "…by one…"**_

_**His head slumped to his chest as his gaze grew dizzy and spotted with splotches of black. He looked at the second figure entering the room, her eyes filled with undisguised horror at the scene. He smiled bitterly, and replied, his voice rough from the strain of screaming, and replied brokenly.**_

_**"You would've made… a fine…vermin…"**_

_**With a snarl, she gouged an eye out and he screamed again, louder than before. A startled gasp emitted from the figure, who, with revulsion and shock in her stance, her eyes, her body, stalked up to him and, grabbing one of the daggers from the rack, plunged it in his heart.**_

_**There was a puddle of blood on the floor, and on Rosilla's paws, as she shook her sister. "Why did you do that?" She yelled. "Why did you kill him?!"**_

_**Sandunal avoided her sibling's eyes and replied, watching the ferret shudder and go limp as life fled him, "Because he was already finished."**_

_**"That's not it, and you know it!"**_

_**She now faced her sister, who saw clearly the disgust in her eyes. "Because you're becoming the very monster he was. And I don't know if I'd be able to pull you back if you kept on hurting him without end."…**_

_**Rosilla glared at her, and stalked out of the room, her sister's sad gaze following her and wondering how her sister, a kind beast when she met her, had turned into the sadistic monster she was now.**_

* * *

(Yeah, a little morbid and cruel, but Rosilla's really going over the edge… I had to get it out of my system anyhow.)

She's still not over her little fiend's death, and is distancing herself from her sister and everybeast else. She becomes morbid and cruel, bitter and brittle on the march to Redwall.

At Oveline's camp, the Warlord is massing his army together, a meek Emerald protecting him from assassins. There's no doubt that the semi-kind fox has gone cuckoo, or mad. Emerald is still under the weather, and still in discomfort and pain from the intense beating that has knocked out most of the suicidal streak in her. Nightstar is still worried, as is Nauru, but they don't have much time as they must tend to the hurt (whether a slave from too many lashings or vermin who got into a drunken fistfight with the others) and pack up medical supplies for the journey. A token force is also left behind to a) oversee the slaves and b) take care of the canyon fortress. Emerald, despite all pleadings and groveling (which would've hurt her ego before, but now there's no need for one in her position), has to go along with the Warlord to 'protect' him. She'd like nothing better than to stick a dagger in his back, but she has to wait…

Thus, the two armies (one considerably smaller than the other—Oveline's got about three-quarters of the warlords who he had audience with on his side, and thus their armies) march to Redwall, who are frantically rallying support from the otters, Guosim, and other creatures of the forest. Fall is arriving quickly, and the time is coming.

So far, we've got most of the Prophecy covered:

**A slave from the south, high as sky**

**Will come to blood red walls.**

**Grave news she will bring, of Evil One's plans**

**Of conquest of twin bells.** –Obviously, this is Sky coming to Redwall from the south to warn the Abbeybeasts of the impending danger of Oveline (an anagram of 'Evil One') coming to conquer the 'twin bells'—or, in other words, Redwall.

**The one with two whites,**

**Will stay to spy,**-- This is Emerald—or Nauru—it can be taken three ways (the 'two whites' part); her mother and brother, her brother and Nightsnow, or his mother and Nightsnow. Either way, it still works. She's staying behind to help the others (such martyrdom…) and spy on Oveline. Things, obviously, aren't going as well as planned.

**And help in greatest need.**

**That beast is the warrior,**

**Of which we've been waiting for**

**To lift the sword to revenge. **–Now this part, we don't know about. It's pretty self explanatory, but I'm having second thoughts about that…

**So look to the south,**

**And wait for first,**

**When summer reigns again.**—Actually, it's a couple weeks after the start of Sumer when Sky arrives, so it works. Besides, it was late spring when Ffindle and Merrick left to get Sandunal.

**And when seed-cases fall,**

**The army will run**

**And warrior will come.**—Fall is coming, and the armies are running (no, the rhyme was not intentional), bringing Emerald, or Nauru, who by now you should know are the candidates for the position of 'Redwall Warrior'. It was originally going to be Emerald, but I've started thinking about stereotypicalness and other things, and that was just a bit too expected… sooooo, it might, or might not be Emerald…I'm still trying to figure out how it's going to go…

That and, this is the second day of writing this, the second day since I started it, and I'm not quite sure which way I'm going to go…However, there is going to be a character death, that's for sure.

Anyhow, in the Dark Forest, Martin and co. find a way to Fairon (what a stupid, stupid name! I can't believe myself sometimes), who has taken the appearance of a slightly elder mouse, but not that elder. Think Human-age fifties. Early fifties, or late fourties. They find a way down into Hellgates, and get down to Mariel and Rose and the others have a big happy reunion, at which time the vermin horde lays sights on Redwall and Nightsnow and Nauru make their escape to the gates.

Martin then knows (he has this unexplained flash of vision) that time is short, and has to get back up quickly before the vermin hordes can kill off the hero. He doesn't know what will happen, but there's this rock in his gut, and he's learned to trust his feelings. Unfortunately, the vermin make a mass revolt the next day, and he is stuck with the others keeping them in while the vermin horde up above attacks Redwall.

Emerald is forced to protect Oveline at any cost, though she refuses to kill any woodlander. Oveline is Not Happy about this, but his life is in danger and he puts it off.

Rosilla goes berserk after a nearly-successful attempt on Sandunal's life was made. She went into a rage, and single-paw(dedly) killed nearly a score but was killed, and her face finally relaxed in peace.

The horde nearly makes it in, as is mirrored down below, when Dobane and _his_ army arrive and come to the rescue, as Brocktree and some others (many Badger Lords) come and retrieve the 'dead', who are in a comatose state, and the severely wounded.

However, the final blow comes when Nauru fights Oveline with a majestic sword, a gleaming red hiltstone embedded in it while Emerald is occupied with taking out backstabbers in Oveline's own horde.

(_Another Exert_)

* * *

Emerald swiftly killed yet another weasel trying to kill the warlord. She didn't know what possessed her to keep protecting the fox, but she did…and anyways, every vermin destroyed was another revenge for her parent's deaths. A grunt echoed behind her, and, making sure nobeast was sneaking up on Oveline, she turned to check on her master.

_**And stayed in that position, frozen as she watched Nauru, with the most amazing sword she'd ever seen, make a mistake. Fatal, and cruel.**_

_**Without hesitating, the black fox snarled and slashed the white squirrel's side. Nauru instinctively lowered his paws to the wound, dropping the sword at his paws as he tried to stop the bleeding. Oveline took the hilt of his sword and smashed it viciously against the former slave's skull, knocking him to the ground behind the beautiful blade.**_

_**Emerald wasn't even aware of the scream that was torn from her mouth as she watched her brother. She wasn't aware of stumbling forward, forgetting her own sword falling from her forepaws, and grabbing the magnificent weapon. She was aware of eyes filled with madness as she swung the sword furiously and killed the fox in one blow. One, simple blow to the neck, slicing through and killing him, ending the look of lunacy in his eyes and dimming them over.**_

_**She spoke words she wasn't aware of, only their meaning. She asked Nauru if he was alright, screaming with hysteria as she dragged him across the battlefield in front of the Abbey gates, which were battered in places and precariously hanging from loose hinges. Emerald was oblivious to all the world, which had erupted into chaos the moment the fox had died, leaving the rest of the horde to flee from the scene. She focused only on her brother, who didn't respond, didn't wake up. He was alive, he had to be!**_

_**Numb, she pushed him and prodded, and suddenly there were paws, gentle and kind, prying her grip off his arm, explaining softly things she didn't register.**_

_**She just stood there, sword hanging limply in her grasp, tail on the ground and riddled with blood and dirt. Her fur was matted and soaked with sweat, dirt, and again, blood. She took a halfhearted step forward, the voices encouraging her and guiding her forward. **_

_**Suddenly, though, there was pain ripping through her midsection. Letting the sword drop, she looked down and there it was, the tip of the arrow protruding from her stomach. If possible, everything else slowed down even more to the point of stopping, and she saw life flash before her eyes as she began to fall to the earth, looking bewilderedly at the blood on her paw. The paw that had touched the seeping moisture around the wound.**_

_**Darkness began to take over as she tried to bite out a simple message that ended up being divided into three simple words.**_

"_**Tell…love him…"**_

_**And with that, she felt her eyes close, the breath exiting and never entering, and the shaft of the arrow breaking off as she fell on her back and didn't get up. **_

* * *

(Not as heartbreaking as I would've liked, but I haven't been able to do much to bond the readers and characters.)

And thus, Emerald dies. Nauru and she were both, in a way, the warrior of Redwall, though Nauru lived by sheer luck and became the official one. But Emerald was remembered.

Martin finally reached the mirror, only to be summoned again by the council to sort the dead. It had been decided that 'good' vermin, no matter how few and far between, would be allowed in the Dark Forest—they wouldn't have to go down unless they wished so.

As the dead were sorted, he was horrified that his heroine would join their ranks. Holding out for a miracle, he helped deliver judgement. His heart sank when the familiar, not-quite golden-red squirrel stepped forward.

(_ANOTHER exert:_)

_**

* * *

**_

Emerald stepped forward, calm and quiet, listening as the beasts discussed her life. What was there to discuss, though? She was merely holding up the line.

"_**I'll go down."**_

_**They stopped talking and looked at her strangely.**_

_**She shrugged. She wasn't alive anymore, and strangely, all anger seemed to have dissipated knowing that Nauru was alive.**_

"_**I'm only holding it up. I'll go down."**_

"_**But, you are a hero! You don't need—"**_

_**She cut him off. "Then why discuss everything? Why not let me in? I've done fine, according to you."**_

_**The badger looked a little miffed. "Fine. Enter now, the Dark—"**_

"_**I've already told you, I'll go down. I'm not entering until my brother enters. Is that good enough for you?"**_

_**They protested, but a mouse held up a paw, and spoke. "We can bend the rules. She's a heroine, and besides, it's her choice."**_

"_**Thank you."**_

_**With that, she stepped into yet another one of the lava boats, and disappeared straight down.**_

_**Martin sighed. He hadn't wanted her to die, but heroes…they weren't always invincible. **_**She made a good choice though**_**, he thought.**_** Especially since stubborn Rose is down there.**

_**He turned back to the tedious chore, and noticed that the council hadn't changed one bit of their method after this outburst. He shook his head. Typical. More than a millennium could go by, and it would only harden their traditions.**_

* * *

(Pointless, but I wanted to write it.)

Meanwhile, the Redwallers had a memorial and mass burning of the dead. Nauru knelt by the ashes later, and the other two maidens (Nightsnow and Sky)

(_Oh, my giddy aunt, I am on an exert roll!_)

_**

* * *

**_

Without looking up, Nauru spoke. "I just can't believe she's actually…gone now."

_**Sky bared her teeth at the sky. "And the murderer hasn't been found yet… filthy vermin!"**_

_**Nightsnow put a paw on both her companions, speaking quietly. An ear had been cut off, so she looked a little lopsided. "Sky, Nauru, this is war. Beasts get killed."**_

_**"But why **_**her**_**?" He looked up at the mousemaid. "She was so full of life, of energy, and…"**_

_**"…and bitterness, and revenge, and pain. She didn't lead a good life, but she lived a full one. All that vengeance and anger in you corrodes you, Nauru, and it was beginning to happen to Emerald when she went though that beating. The pain intensified and succeeded in blocking out the need to hurt others to bring out the anger in herself. Look what happened to my cousin's half-sister—she became cruel and sadistic towards her son's murderer. In the end, she went mad with it all."**_

_**Sky still held her doubts, but conceded for the moment. "Wasn't her child a bit of a…"**_

_**"Brat?"**_

_**The otter shifted uncomfortably. "Yes."**_

_**Nightsnow nodded. "He was, but Rosilla loved him. There's been bloodshed and loss for all. Even the Friar went down fighting, and nameless others."**_

_**"Including Dobane." Nauru spoke quietly. "He was ruthless and cruel at times, I know that. I fought by him. But he fought honorably." He looked up and the sky, darkening in the twilight. "I know that Emerald is happy where she is, but I don't want her to go."**_

_**Nightsnow didn't reply, but brought out a small urn and scooped some of the ashes into it. She handed it to Nauru, who accepted it.**_

_**Something caught Sky's eye, though, and she saw a glint of metal in the dark ashes. She reached in, and took it out. It was a case, partially melted in some areas.**_

_**She opened it, and took out a flute. "Nauru…" She passed it to him.**_

_**He accepted it wordlessly, and stowed it in his tunic. "Let's go," he said quietly. "She wouldn't want us moping."**_

_**Nightsnow and Nauru left, but Sky remained, and looked up. "Wherever you are…" she murmured, "I'll do better next time. I won't run. I'll save them. I failed, but I won't fail again."**_

_**The ottermaid left, running up to her companions and accompanying them to the slightly-more-subdued- than-usual feast.**_

_**An ember lit up and died out in the ashes, glowing faintly before finally, stubbornly flickering into oblivion. But not without a fight.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Fine.

(Well, that's the Epilogue for you…)

That's the end of it, really. Not much else to say or tell, only that it was, for the most part, a pleasure to do this. You, the readers, deserved the ending…but to tell the truth, I was considering killing all of them off, if only for the sake of doing so.

Thank you.

_storiewriter, also known as Kalyn Wordsmith._


End file.
